Elix: Sci-Fi Romance (The Gladius Syndicate Book 2) by Emma James (16)

Aerdan turned around, his forehead creased in confusion. “What? What are you talking about?”

Brynx sighed. “For a human, you can be awfully stupid sometimes,” he said lightly. “Take a look in the mirror. Maybe that will help.”

Still frowning, Aerdan crossed the room and carefully inspected his reflection. He was clad in leather leggings with the royal seal of Zheka embossed on one thigh, and his tunic barely concealed his bulging muscles.

“I’m dressed,” Aerdan said. “I don’t get it.”

Brynx rolled his eyes. “You really are lacking in intelligence,” he said disdainfully. “How you expect to get into the castle of Glasule looking like that?”

“Oh…” Aerdan trailed off, looking down. “By the gods, you’re right!”

Brynx yawned, as if to say: “I know.”

Aerdan pulled his clothes off and tossed them in a corner before digging through his wardrobe and pulling out a pair of plain linen breeches and a matching shirt. He dressed as quickly as he could before refilling his leather bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“You stay here,” Aerdan said to Brynx.

“I have no interest in sailing,” Brynx said. He yawned, then curled up on the bed. “Aerdan, I wish you the best of luck.”

Aerdan rolled his eyes. “Lazy cat,” he said, reaching down and scratching Brynx’s back affectionately. “I’ll bring her back, I swear,” he added. Aerdan took one last glance around his room before darting down the side stairs and running away from the castle.

Outside, people strolled in groups, sadly talking and dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs. Aerdan darted past the crowds as quickly as he could – even in his plain clothes, his bright blue eyes were an unmistakable sign that he belonged to the royal family – and he knew he couldn’t be seen by a single person if he wanted to escape. He ran down the grassy banks to the edge of the sea. Three fishing boats were tethered to the dock. The fishermen were gathered on the beach, sorting their hauls.

Aerdan held his breath as he crept along the bulkhead, then onto the deck. The wooden planks creaked under his muscular bulk and he began to sweat out of sheer anxiety. Please, Aerdan begged. Please, gods, let me escape unseen. This is the only chance of her rescue, and without me, Angelica is doomed.

Whether the gods were listening or not, Aerdan managed to board a fishing boat without being noticed. The boat swayed and rocked in the water and for a moment, Aerdan thought he was going to be sick. He fumbled with the ropes tethering the boat to the dock with trembling fingers, then cast off and kicked the bulkhead, sending the boat floating gently out towards the cresting waves.

Soon, Aerdan was sailing along. The Zhekan castle grew smaller and smaller, and the scent of the salt air felt invigorating and fresh as Aerdan zoomed through the bright blue water.

“This isn’t so hard,” Aerdan said, tugging at the ropes. The sail swung around and he gasped, ducking as it narrowly missed him. Aerdan chuckled. “Maybe not,” he added under his breath. Still, he took it as a good sign – he’d never sailed, or learned how to handle a boat before. I’m a natural, Aerdan figured proudly as he stretched the sail tightly and pointed the boat in the approximate direction of Glasule.

The old map, beaten and torn as it was, proved to be a great help. Aerdan kept it firmly gripped it in one hand, steering the boat with the other, as he churned through the waves. The motion of the sea beneath the boat had begun to feel safe, almost calming, and soon Aerdan was feeling more relaxed and positive than he had since before Angelica’s kidnapping.

But as soon as the Zhekan shoreline disappeared, the skies grew cloudy and the wind began to whip and whirl.

It’s nothing, Aerdan thought, biting his lip in determination as he struggled to keep control of the boat. It’s just a little storm, nothing to be afraid of.

But despite his determination to keep going, Aerdan was filled with fear. The clouds above the sea began to thicken and swirl, turning grey and then a deep, angry shade of black that chilled Aerdan to the bone. The air became cold and damp, and Aerdan clung to the wheel of the boat, steering on towards what he hoped was the direction of Glasule.

It can’t be much longer, Aerdan thought. It had begun to rain and the floorboards were slippery and slimy with salt and muck. The ship pitched and turned, rolling through the waves. A large wave crashed over the prow and Aerdan shuddered in fear when he heard the telltale sound of splintering wood. By now, the air was so thick with rain and fog that Aerdan couldn’t see land. The pitching waves were beginning to make him feel sick and he hunched over the wheel, vomiting until hot tears leaked from his eyes. His hands were chilled to the bone and aching, but he clung fiercely to the ship, determined to steer himself to freedom.

Crack!

A bright zigzag of lightning filled the sky, illuminating the clouds in a ghastly purple and green that made Aerdan think of a healing bruise. Loud thunder boomed mere seconds later, and Aerdan froze as he saw a huge wave cresting and looming over the ship. He pitched the wheel to the right in a desperate attempt to turn and avoid, but he was too late. The wave crested over the ship. Aerdan’s body was pushed under a fierce torrent of salty water. He sputtered and coughed, gasping for air as he groped for the wheel of the ship. But the ship’s steering mechanism had come apart in his hands and Aerdan yelled with alarm when he saw pieces of wood floating away.

By the time he realized the ship had broken apart from underneath him, Aerdan was kicking and churning the water with his legs, trying desperately to stay above the surface. Rain spattered his forehead and each time the sea rose, his mouth and nose filled with acrid salt water. Aerdan was coughing and gasping, kicking as hard as he could. When he closed his eyes, Angelica’s beautiful face filled his mind.

Aerdan felt the strength begin leaving his body. He sighed and shuddered as his limbs ached with the torment of fighting the angry sea. It felt good to close his eyes, even though an alarm bell at the back of his mind kept screaming for Aerdan to stay awake. I’m sorry, Angelica, Aerdan thought blearily as yet another huge wave crashed over his floating body. I tried. But I guess I wasn’t strong enough.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Angelica

Angelica leaned against the wall of her cell and sighed. She hugged her knees to her chest, wrapping her long arms around her legs and biting her lip. She had no way of determining just how long she’d been locked inside the dungeon under the castle of Glasule, but it felt like she had been there for hours.

Angelica’s mind was foggy. Immediately upon surrendering herself to the sorceress Namaya, she’d been given a potent and toxic drink that glowed bright green and made her feel sicker than she ever had before. She had passed out almost immediately.

When she’d woken up, she’d found herself alone in a cold, damp cell. The walls were blocks of stone, covered in lime and mold. The floor was cold stone covered with a sparse sprinkling of hay. Worst of all, there was nothing even resembling a modern amenity inside the cell. She’d found a lumpy pillow on the floor, but a rat had emerged and Angelica had shrieked, throwing the pillow at the wall. There was a bucket covered with a plank of wood in the corner…but Angelica somehow guessed what that was for, and she stayed as far away as possible.

The dungeon was eerily quiet. Angelica couldn’t see much from her cell – the iron bars were planted firmly in the stone wall, feet away from the entrance, effectively blocking her off from the rest of the prison. Still, she could tell that the dungeon itself was quite large: the only sounds she heard, besides the dripping of water onto the floor, were echoes from floors far above her head. Angelica had never felt claustrophobic before, but something about being locked in a tiny stone room was driving her crazy.

The rough homespun gown scratched her neck and shoulders. Somewhere, her silk gown and golden hair ornaments had been taken. That wasn’t a surprise, but it did make Angelica feel uncomfortable that someone had stripped her and then re-dressed her while she had been unconscious. All of her positive opinions about the land of Zheka had vanished – she was obviously in some kind of medieval hell, doomed to rot in a subterranean cell.

Angelica perked up at the sound of stone gliding against stone. She was equally terrified and hopeful – someone could be coming to torture her…or rescue her. Either way, she knew she was powerless. Still, she didn’t regret her decision to turn herself in. She knew that the royal family of Zheka was more important than the life of a mere girl. And yet, Angelica didn’t think it was exactly fair. I didn’t ask to be brought here, she thought, squirming uncomfortably on the stone floor. Why are they doing this to me? Why can’t they just send me home if I’m such a threat?

Tears welled up in her eyes as Angelica realized she may never again see New York, or Stacy, or even her bitchy boss at the gallery, Nadine.

Lumbering footsteps made Angelica jump. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she shifted and rolled to her knees, standing up quickly and defensively pressing her back against the cell. Soon, a guard came into sight. He was a bulky, huge man – obviously some kind of retired warrior. His skin was lined and creased and his hair was a shock of silver. But his muscles still bulged, and Angelica guessed he had been hired specifically to guard her.

“Please, sir,” Angelica begged in a quiet voice. “May I have some water?”

The guard looked at her, his lips parted. A long string of drool emerged from his mouth and dripped down his chin. Angelica shuddered.

“Please,” Angelica repeated. “Please give me some water.” She rubbed her throat and mimed taking a drink from an invisible cup. “I’m so thirsty.”

Just thinking about water made Angelica’s throat ache. Suddenly, she remembered waking up in the lush, verdant clearing of the woods. And to think I felt bad then, she thought sadly.

The guard didn’t reply. He shuffled closer, grabbing the iron bars of Angelica’s cell and pressing his face to them. He stared at her face, licking his lips all the while.

“Can you understand me?” Angelica asked gently, trying not to show the repulsion she felt. “Do you speak this language?”

The guard grunted. He lifted his arms in a vague shrug, then slipped his fingers through the bars and reached for Angelica.

“Pretty…”

Angelica shuddered at the guard’s stilted, awkward speech. “Please, some water,” she said.

The guard didn’t reply. He stood there, fingering the iron bars and keeping his eyes focused on Angelica.

“Can you let me go?” Angelica whispered. “Please – I need to go home.” Her chest ached with longing. When she closed her eyes, she expected to see the bustling city of New York painted on her lids. But much to her surprise, Aerdan’s handsome, leonine face flashed into her mind. His bright blue eyes, his sensual lips. The way he’d kissed her. The way he’d called her beautiful, and held her in his arms.

The sound of the dungeon door scraping open once again made Angelica jump, and thoughts of Aerdan vanished from her mind. The guard didn’t move – he stood perfectly still, staring at Angelica.

“Pretty…”

“Oh, shut up, you fool!”

Angelica looked to the right and saw a girl, close her own age, approaching the cell. She was of average height and squat, with a squished face that reminded Angelica of a hairless Persian cat. Her blonde hair was brushed into a smooth orb at the top of her head, and her lumpy figure was stuffed into a dress that looked remarkably like the dress Angelica had been wearing earlier.

The girl walked closer and smacked the guard on the side of his head. He barely flinched. Despite the assault, he didn’t even look at the other girl. She glared at him angrily and started beating and punching him around the shoulders and the neck.

“Leave, you idiot! Go back to your corner,” the girl shrieked as she rained blows on the guard’s powerful muscular bulk.

If she hadn’t been so frightened, Angelica might have laughed. The sight of this fat girl assaulting one of the biggest men she’d ever seen was ridiculous. Even though the guard was elderly, Angelica could tell that he was powerful – he could have grabbed the girl and whipped her over his head with one hand if he wanted. Instead, he nodded meekly and slunk away.

The girl pulled a three-legged wooden stool close to the bars of the cell and sat down. The silk bodice of her dress ripped and dimpled flesh spilled out. Even in the dim light, Angelica was sure that it was the dress that had been taken from her.

“Please, miss,” Angelica begged. “Please, may I have some water?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Like I would be so kind as to do you any kind of favor,” she said sarcastically. “You almost ruined everything!”

“I’m so thirsty,” Angelica said softly. Tears came to her eyes and she blinked them away, refusing to cry in front of this haughty stranger. “Please, just a few sips.”

The girl glared at her with hatred that chilled Angelica to the bone. “You should ask the guard,” she said. “He obviously thinks you’re pretty. Much like Aerdan, I expect.”

“I’m sorry,” Angelica said. “I don’t understand. I…I’m not from here,” she added quickly. “I was spirited away from another land, a far-away land. I just want to get back home.”

The girl stared, ignoring Angelica’s pleas. “You haven’t greeted me with proper respect for a royal princess,” the girl said. “Bow. Kneel.”

Angelica sank into a low bow, then to her knees. The stone floor made her joints ache almost instantly but she gritted her teeth, determined to bear the pain as long as it helped her escape.

“That’s better,” the girl said. She smiled cruelly, showing pointed white teeth that looked much too small for her wide mouth.

“Please help me,” Angelica begged. “Please, I’ll do anything.”

The girl threw her head back and laughed. “I bet you would,” she said. “But here’s the funny thing – we already have you, locked up, and there’s no way you’re going to escape.”

Angelica dipped her head and swallowed. “Why are you doing this?” She whispered.

The girl reached through the iron bars of the cell and grabbed the front of Angelica’s rough dress. She yanked the material in her fingers and pulled Angelica forward, causing her head to knock painfully against the bars. Brightly colored flashes exploded in front of Angelica’s vision and she cried out in pain as tears came to her eyes. The girl grunted, then pushed her back roughly against the floor. Angelica landed painfully, twisting one ankle beneath her and whimpering.

“You really don’t know who I am, do you,” the girl said sourly. “I can’t believe they wouldn’t have told you.”

“I’m sorry,” Angelica said. She hauled herself into a sitting position and tried to ignore the blinding pain in her head. “I haven’t been in Zheka for very long, as I told you, I came from a far-away land.”

“You still should have known,” the girl said. She licked her lips and raised an eyebrow. “I am Princess Muertha.”

Angelica didn’t reply. She racked her brain, wondering if she’d ever heard the name before.

“I am betrothed to High Commander Aerdan,” Muertha added. Her dull eyes flashed with anger. “And you have not been told of me?!”

“I am sorry, I was not told that Commander Aerdan was engaged,” Angelica said. She bit her lip. Why wouldn’t he have told me, she thought, the tears coming back to her eyes. Everyone acted like he was single! Why would he have lied to me?

An unpleasant thought came into Angelica’s mind: what if Aerdan had only lied to bed her? She didn’t understand why his family would have been complicit in such a lie…unless they truly didn’t care about her, and all of Zornaya’s affection had been a ruse. Angelica shuddered.

“Yes,” Muertha said primly. “I thought you might have that reaction.”

“I am sorry, I didn’t know,” Angelica said softly. “He never told me.”

Muertha looked sour. “We have been engaged, practically since birth,” she sniffed. “And he’s chosen not to acknowledge it. Commander Aerdan has spent his entire life bedding wenches all around the kingdom,” she said. “He’s nothing but a rake. You should have known better than to become involved with him.”

Angelica buried her face in her hands and wept.

Muertha laughed. “Yes, I know how it feels,” she sneered, leaning close to the bars. Even from a few feet away, Angelica could smell her rotting breath and overwhelming floral perfume.

“Why did you bring me here,” Angelica whimpered. “Please, why can’t you release me?”

Muertha’s jaw dropped and she glared at Angelica. “You must be jesting,” she said. She tossed her head, showing off her pudgy neck. “You cannot believe that I would release you, just because you weren’t aware of Aerdan’s…prior commitments,” she said. She burst out laughing. “You’ll be lucky if we drag you to the desert and abandon you,” she said. “I hear death comes quickly under a scorching sun and hot sand.”

Angelica shuddered. “I haven’t done anything to you,” she cried. “Please, why are you doing this?”

Muertha stood up quickly, sending another sharp wave of disgusting perfume into the cell. “If you cannot figure that out, I have nothing to say to you,” she said. She glared at Angelica. “The important thing is that you’re away from Aerdan. Soon, we will wed.”

“And then will you release me,” Angelica begged. “Please, please, Muertha. Please let me go.”

Muertha’s lips curled into a sneer. “If you think I’d lift a finger to help you, you’re even more stupid than I thought,” she said. She strode out of the cell, swishing foul perfume behind her.

Angelica buried her face in her hands and cried. She cried until until her eyes were stinging and sore. The guard stood in his corner the whole time, not taking his eyes away from her. Part of Angelica hoped that the guard would approach her again. But when hours passed and he didn’t even budge, she sighed and leaned against the wall. Angelica closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

Maybe I can magic my way out of here, Angelica thought, hours later. She was tired and weary and starving, but powerful adrenaline coursed through her veins at the thought of escaping. She tried to concentrate, but each time her will fizzled out. It was almost like the dungeon itself repelled the little magic she knew.

When the stone door opened, Angelica didn’t even look up. It’s probably that bitch, Muertha, she thought angrily. Come back to taunt me about Aerdan, and how I was just another woman to sleep with.

“Angelica.”

The voice was deep and wizened. When Angelica looked up, she was shocked to see Namaya. Namaya walked closer, a ghastly green glow surrounding her frame. Namaya took her cloak off and draped it over a chair. Without it, she almost looked like an ordinary old woman. If it wasn’t for the deep, eerie glow in her eyes, she could have passed for a Zhekan peasant.

“Please let me go,” Angelica whimpered. “I just want to go home.”

Namaya pursed her wrinkled lips.

“I’m not a native of Zheka,” Angelica said. “I told Muertha the truth – that I was somehow spirited to this world from my own. I’m from New York City,” she added, her voice quavering.

“Silence, child,” Namaya said. She walked closer, twisting her bony fingers through the air. “’Tis not your place to speak to me in such insolent tones.”

Angelica swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I’m so thirsty. Please, some water.”

Namaya narrowed her poisonous green eyes. Angelica shuddered – the narrow pupils reminded her of a snake.

“I have no use for you, yet,” Namaya said. “But you will prove your assistance.”

Angelica stayed silent. “Please let me go,” she whimpered. “Please, just let me go home.”

Namaya waved her hand through the air and a cloud of mist appeared. Angelica gasped – the mist was filled with tiny thunderclouds and bolts of lightning. A stormy sea formed beneath the clouds and began to churn and wave – it looked so real that Angelica could practically smell the salt and feel the damp air kissing her face.

“There was a bad storm last night,” Namaya said dreamily. Her eyes began to glow brighter. “And someone, an unfortunate soul, was lost at sea.”

Angelica’s heart leapt into her throat as a small fishing vessel appeared on the stormy sea. A figure with dark brown hair and blue eyes clutched at the wood as wave after wave crashed down upon him.

Angelica gasped. “Aerdan!”

Namaya’s lips curled into a smile. “Yes,” she said softly. “Aerdan. I wonder what he was doing, all alone at sea by himself. Perhaps he was looking for someone.”

Angelica’s heart sank and she felt her stomach twist into a painful grip that felt like cramps. Nausea overwhelmed her and she knelt on the stone floor and retched until her throat stung. Acidic bile poured out of her mouth and onto the ground, filling the air with an acrid stench.

“Oh, perhaps I should have told you more gently,” Namaya said. She smiled wickedly and the vision of the stormy sea vanished. “Either way, Commander Aerdan was lost at sea.”

“No…” Angelica sniffled and suppressed a sob. “He can’t be dead! He can’t be!”

Namaya shrugged. “He may well be dead,” she replied. “And this is your fault, child. If you hadn’t bewitched the young Commander…”

“Don’t you dare blame this on me,” Angelica growled. “You came to Zheka and took me by force! You gave me no choice! It was either me, or the lives of the royal family!”

Namaya stared at her for a long time. “You have ruined everything,” she said simply. “And I will never release you. You will stay imprisoned under the castle of Glasule until you rot, or until Muertha decides on a fitting punishment for the woman who ruined her prospects of marriage.” Namaya smiled. “I am sure you are used to the peaceful ways of Zheka,” she said softly. “But here in Glasule, we opt for more…violent punishments.”

A shiver ran down Angelica’s spine but she didn’t back down. “Go ahead and kill me,” she said. “That’s what you really want, isn’t it?”

Namaya laughed. “Child, you don’t know the first thing about what I want,” she said. She got to her feet and swished out of the room.

Angelica sighed and leaned against the wall, feeling utterly defeated. She buried her face in her hands and bit her lip until she tasted blood. This is it, she realized. I wish I had told Aerdan how I really feel.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Namaya’s cloak, still hanging from the chair. Something shiny caught her eye and her heart leapt when she realized Namaya had forgotten a ring of keys. Sneaking a cautious glance at the guard, Angelica heaved a sigh of relief – the guard was slumped against the wall, spittle dribbling down his chin. His eyes were closed and if Angelica held her breath and listened, she could hear the faint sound of snores.

With trembling fingers, Angelica ripped at the hem of her dress. She tore the skirt into small strips, then knotted them together and formed a loop at one end. Crouching at the iron bars of her cell, she threw the rope out into the cell again and again, until the loop caught on the ring of keys and upended them to the floor.

Angelica’s lips curled into a smile. Finally, she thought. Maybe I have a chance after all!

CHAPTER NINE

Aerdan

The seas stormed and rolled, pitching the small boat from one foamy crest to the next. Aerdan gripped to the boat so tightly that his knuckles were white. His teeth were tightly clenched although he couldn’t help crying out in fear as the boat splintered and cracked apart like an egg, spilling its contents into the sea. Salt water blasted up Aerdan’s nose and mouth and he coughed violently until pain spread through his chest and he felt like he would pass out.

“No!” Aerdan screamed as the skies opened. The rain turned into a downpour, and soon it was coming so hard that Aerdan couldn’t see more than two feet in front of him. Aerdan was starting to feel exhausted and cold – a chill that penetrated his body to the core, a chill that made him think death was very nearly on the horizon.

Maybe dying won’t be so bad, Aerdan thought as he closed his eyes. A powerful wave tugged him under the surface of the water, pummeling him against the sandy ocean floor until his skin was scraped and his lungs were burning for want of air.

A ray of light shone down into the sea, a calming force that soothed Aerdan’s frayed nerves. Glancing up, he saw the waters of the sea part. Green light glowed, and Aerdan realized that he was about to be saved.

“Thank the gods,” Aerdan cried. Adrenaline flowed through his body and he felt some of his strength return. With all of his might, he kicked and thrashed and churned through the water, desperate to get close to the light. He could practically feel the light warming him, and he knew that it wouldn’t be long before he was safe. The boat was in wooden fragments around him, but Aerdan clung desperately to the fallen mast of the ship as the ray of light lifted him higher and higher into the air.

As Aerdan’s body left the sea, he realized he was floating up to the sky. The storm clouds had lifted and while the seas were still stormy, they were beginning to calm. When he saw the grounds of Zheka, he gasped.

I’m almost home, Aerdan thought triumphantly. I made it! I’m alive! But when he tried to move towards the castle, he found that he was paralyzed. He couldn’t move –he could only continue drifting up, up, up, towards the heavens above.

Aerdan groaned. I must have had one hell of a night with Huen and Baelan, he thought, groping for a pillow. When his fingers closed around dry, gritty sand, his eyelids flew open.

Oh, gods, Aerdan realized. I’m on…the beach? He sat up and rubbed his eyes with his sandy hands. The sea gleamed a brilliant shade of blue before him, and Aerdan swallowed. His throat was dry – just the sight of the massive body of water before him was enough to make him desperately thirsty. Aerdan licked his dry, chapped lips and looked around, trying to figure out what had happened. As soon as he saw the immense black castle, the previous night came crashing back to him.

I’m in Glasule, Aerdan realized. He sniffed and wiped his face on his sleeve. I made it.

Aerdan stood up and stretched. There was no sign of the boat, or the previous night’s storm. The beach was uniform and beautiful, and the water glittered placidly. Waves gently rolled along the shore, revealing gleaming shells.

Aside from the distant guards parading around the castle walls, Aerdan couldn’t see a single person in sight. While he knew that was likely for the best, he couldn’t help feeling chilled. Aerdan had never been to Glasule before, and now he was starting to realize it was nothing like Zheka. The landscape was similar – beautiful grass, beach, and sea – but the atmosphere was different. It felt chilly and oppressive, like being trapped in a nightmare.

Aerdan got to his feet and stretched. His joints ached and his head throbbed, but he knew that he’d have to act quickly in order to sneak into the castle. Thankfully, his clothes were mostly intact. He was missing a patch of cloth on his trousers, but his shirt was fine, albeit rather sandy. After brushing himself off, Aerdan went to the edge of the water and rinsed his face with a few handfuls of salty water. The water felt blessedly cool against his skin. The urge to drink was intense, but Aerdan knew he couldn’t drink salt water – after ingesting so much of the sea the night before, he felt faintly nauseous.

A loud bell sounded from the castle. Aerdan jumped at the sound. When he turned around, it didn’t appear that anything had changed. But then Aerdan watched as a drawbridge lowered slowly into the air, the chains creaking and shrieking even from hundreds of feet away. Shuddering, Aerdan darted off towards the edge of the wood. I’ll hide until dark, he thought. Maybe I can find some fresh water or food in the woods. Then, as soon as the sun has gone, I’ll sneak into the castle.

Aerdan moved quickly through the woods, doing his best to keep his feet from crunching on the twigs and dead leaves underfoot. He kept to the trees, darting behind the biggest ones he could find before moving on. While Queen Zornaya had warned Aerdan about Glasule, he didn’t see how things were so bad. Sometimes he’d catch the sound of children cheering and yelling. They are a different land, but not inferior, Aerdan thought to himself as he moved through the woods. I bet if it wasn’t for that witch, Namaya, Glasule would be a very lovely place, indeed.

The sound of fresh water babbling and streaming made Aerdan’s gut twist from hunger and thirst. If only I hadn’t lost my stupid flask in the shipwreck! Aerdan moved closer and closer, staying cautious. When a twig snapped under his foot, Aerdan froze.

Giggles and laughter sounded from the clearing and Aerdan swallowed. He pressed himself to the tree trunk and listened. Cautiously stepping forward, he heard splashing and taunting. Aerdan looked around and saw a small lake. Three young men were diving and splashing one another, their clothes thrown carelessly on the shore.

Aerdan realized that they must be from Glasule. For a moment, he almost pitied them – it was like watching a mirror of himself, Baelan, and Huen at play. Then he realized that if he could somehow steal their clothes, it would give him easier access to the castle. Sneaking forward, Aerdan dropped to his hands and knees and crawled silently along the ground. His heart was pounding the whole time – he knew that if he was apprehended, the men would drag him to the castle kicking and screaming. But they were seemingly occupied with dunking each other in the lake. Aerdan reached the piles of clothing and stole a pair of leather breeches as well as a finely-woven silk shirt and a leather purse containing heavy golden coins.

As soon as the clothes were in his hands, Aerdan darted away. In the safety of the woods, he changed quickly, discarding his own clothes high in the trunk of a tree. The sun was directly overhead and Aerdan was sweating and panting by the time he reached the edge of the wood. It seemed dreadful to have to wait until sundown to sneak into the castle…besides, now that he was disguised, Aerdan thought that he’d be able to saunter in and pretend like he knew what he was doing. He puffed out his chest and kept his head held high as he strolled across the green lawn and closer to the castle.

The closer Aerdan got to the castle, the more nervous he felt. He hated himself for feeling something other than bravery. Angelica was brave, Aerdan realized as he quickened his pace. She was selfless, and brave, and gave herself up even though she had no idea what would happen to her. He shuddered – what if she was bound and gagged in the dungeons below the castle, wasting away? I’ll do anything to save her, Aerdan decided firmly.

The drawbridge was still down by the time Aerdan reached the castle gates. As he strode across the wooden planks, he glanced down into the sheer pools of water that formed the moat. Large animals with huge, toothy jaws snapped their teeth at him and Aerdan shuddered. He couldn’t imagine having anything like that in Zheka. The Zhekan castle had defenses, but nothing so crude, nothing so violent!

Thank the gods I don’t have to marry into this kingdom, Aerdan thought. He passed by a guard and held his head high, walking like he knew exactly where he was going. Predictably, the guard ignored him.

As Aerdan made it into the main grounds of Glasule, his confidence began to grow. I’ve got this, Aerdan thought as he strolled into the inner grounds of the castle. Unlike Zheka, there were no signs or directions. Aerdan sat for a second and watched the people milling around. He noticed the people in shabbier clothing headed one way and the people in finer clothing went the other. After a few minutes of watching, he felt confident enough to follow a gathering of young women in fine silk dresses. They’re all as ugly as Muertha, Aerdan thought as he trailed behind him, rolling his eyes at their trivial gossip and complaints.

“You there!”

Aerdan’s heart skipped a beat as a guard thundered loudly. He can’t be talking to me, Aerdan thought. I look like I belong here. Knowing it was better if he didn’t look scared or distracted, Aerdan held himself high and strolled on, puffing his chest and swaggering his hips like a cocky prince.

“Stop! You, sir!”

Aerdan kept walking. He sped up, increasing his pace until he was past the group of tittering women.

Loud footsteps thundered behind him and Aerdan’s palms began to sweat. Almost there, almost there, he promised himself. I’ll be past all the guards soon and inside the castle, then I just have to find Angelica!

“I said stop!”

The blow to the back of Aerdan’s shoulder caught him off guard and he went tumbling down into the dirt. The group of young women paused and turned, laughing hysterically as Aerdan brushed dirt from his leather trousers.

“Sorry,” Aerdan mumbled. “Must’ve—“

“Shut up, you,” the guard growled. With surprising strength, the guard reached down and grabbed Aerdan by the scruff of his neck, hauling him to his feet. The group of women tittered and laughed, covering their mouths with pudgy hands.

“Hey,” Aerdan said indignantly. “What do you think you’re doing? I’m a royal cousin,” he said cockily. “Get your hands off me!”

The guard narrowed his eyes. “I do not believe you. Who is your father?”

“Um, Lord Farque,” Aerdan said. “Of the Gabled Lakes.”

“I have never heard of that man,” the guard said suspiciously. Behind his dull eyes, Aerdan could practically see his brain churning.

“He’s married to my mother, Lady Beckings,” Aerdan lied. “Of the famed beauty.”

The guard glared. “Enough of your insolence, peasant! Back to the fields with you!”

“Anyone can tell I’m an educated man,” Aerdan snapped. “Do I look like a peasant to you?”

The guard pointed down at the tattooed blue bands around Aerdan’s arm. “Only peasants are marked,” he said. “Come with me.”

The group of women burst out laughing as the guard grabbed Aerdan and tugged him away from the entrance to the castle. Aerdan’s heart sank as the guard wrenched open a door and started taking him down a dark staircase made of stone. White lime streaked the walls and Aerdan didn’t have to look around for long before he realized he was being carted to the dungeons.

Now I’ve gone and done it, Aerdan thought miserably. The guard shifted on the stairs, yanking Aerdan into place.

“Show your Mistress respect!”

“What?” Aerdan looked up. When he saw whom the guard was speaking of, he gasped.

Angelica stood before him, looking tired and hungry. She wore a magnificent white silken cloak, clasped around her throat with a gleaming green gem. When she saw Aerdan, her dark eyes went wide. Her cheeks were streaked with dirt and grime, and her hair was greasy, but she looked alive and well – wonderfully alive.

“Release this man,” Angelica said in a regal voice Aerdan had never heard her use before. His head began to spin in confusion as the guard lifted him into the air and carefully peered into his face.

“Mistress, this man was lying,” the guard grunted. “He said he was a royal cousin! He’s nothing more than a peasant. I am taking him to the dungeons so that he may learn the error of his ways!”

“That may be,” Angelica countered. “But I wish for this man to be released. He is my servant, don’t you know? He is of great use to me. In the dungeons, he will rot.”

What in the name of the gods is happening, Aerdan wondered nervously. He glanced from the guard to Angelica, searching her face for clues. Despite her slightly bewildered look, he found nothing that clued him in. Was she from Glasule all along? What’s she doing here, and why is she dressed like that? But her face is dirty, so something must have happened…but why did they let her go? What’s going on?

Aerdan’s mind was spinning in such rapid circles that he felt like he would be sick.

“I said, release him.” Angelica’s voice was strong and powerful. “He is mine.”

The guard gave Aerdan one final look before shrugging and dropping him to the ground. Aerdan crashed painfully hard on the stairs but he scrambled to his feet and looked at Angelica in wonder.

“What’s going—“

“Hush,” Angelica said serenely. She held up her hand and licked her lips. “Come with me, servant,” she said. “We are to go to my chamber at once.”

Aerdan followed behind Angelica as she led him up to the main grounds of the castle. He wasn’t sure what to expect – would she lead him to Muertha and reveal that they had been working together all along? Would she take him to Namaya?

Aerdan shivered.

“Do not be afraid,” Angelica said quietly. As the pair emerged into the sunshine, she pulled her hood over her head and began gliding across the ground with astonishing grace. Nearly each person they passed bowed or curtseyed to Angelica. She dipped her head at all of them, but didn’t linger. She didn’t speak to anyone besides Aerdan, or the various guards that stepped aside to let her pass.

It took Aerdan a few minutes to realize that no one was looking at him – it was almost as if their eyes slid from Angelica to the next person, without even seeing him. It’s like I’m invisible, he realized. What is she doing? How is she controlling all of them like that?

Angelica led Aerdan to the drawbridge. After ordering the guard to lower the bridge, Angelica began walking across it.

“I’m gathering herbs,” she called over her shoulder. “You can raise the gate. I will call to you when I’ve returned.”

The guard bowed low in a sign of respect. He cranked the bridge down with his enormous shoulders, and Angelica led the way, away from the castle of Glasule, into the bright freedom and sun of the day.

When they were away from the castle, Aerdan grabbed Angelica by the shoulder and pulled her close. He stared deeply into her dark eyes.

“What’s going on,” Aerdan demanded. “Are you taking me home to kill my family? Have you been working with Namaya? With Muertha?”

Angelica narrowed her eyes. “You must have a really low opinion of me,” she said. She sniffed. “I can’t tell you right now, just come with me,” she added. “Come on, faster. The faster the better,” she added, quickening her pace to a graceful trot.

Aerdan kept silent as Angelica led him to the stables. While she spoke to the stable boy, Aerdan hung behind. Minutes later, the stable boy emerged with two horses, saddled and ready to go.

“Assist me, please,” Angelica said. Aerdan linked his hands and held them in front of his body so she could mount her ride. As soon as Angelica was settled in her saddle, she nodded for Aerdan to climb astride his own horse.

Angelica set the pace at a fast canter towards the woods. Once she slowed down, she pulled the hood off her head.

“I stole this,” she said triumphantly. “Namaya left it in the dungeon.”

Aerdan’s jaw dropped. “How…how were you able to get out?”

Angelica shrugged. “I ripped my dress,” she said. She lifted the hem of the cloak and showed Aerdan the ragged bottom of her dress. “The guard fell asleep.”

“I…”

“You can’t believe it?” Angelica laughed. “Have a little faith, Aerdan. Namaya bewitched this cloak herself. The guards saw me as her,” she added. “Besides, this didn’t hurt.” She reached into a pocket of the cloak and pulled out a small green stone that glowed in the palm of her hand. Angelica winced. “I don’t know what this is,” she said softly. “But it hurts whenever I touch it. I thought I could ask your mother.”

Aerdan sighed. The strain of the past twenty-four hours was wearing on him heavily, but the love and relief flooding his body were more powerful than anything else he’d ever felt. Before he could even think about what he was doing, he slid off his horse and walked to Angelica’s. Scooping Angelica up in his arms, he lifted her down and kissed her passionately. Angelica moaned softly and pulled Aerdan close.

“I thought you were dead,” Angelica said softly. “I was so afraid.”

Aerdan nodded seriously. “I thought I’d never be able to find you,” he said. “But I knew I had to try.”

Angelica slipped a hand into Aerdan’s and squeezed.

“Let’s go home,” Aerdan said. He grinned. “I bet Mother will throw me a banquet.”

Angelica rolled her eyes. “Is food all you ever think about?”

Aerdan kissed her gently. “Not all,” he said. He winked. “I can think of one thing in particular that sounds even better.”

Angelica flushed. “Come on,” she said. “We need to get moving – it won’t be long before Namaya discovers what I’ve done.”

Aerdan grinned. As far as he was concerned, everything had turned out perfectly.

CHAPTER TEN

Angelica

Angelica and Aerdan were barely over the Zhekan border before they were met with a huge party of soldiers, carriages, and the royal couple. Queen Zornaya leapt out of her carriage and threw her arms around Aerdan before slapping him sharply across the face.

“How dare you worry me like that!” Zornaya said angrily. She turned to Angelica and her anger melted. Zornaya pulled the girl into a tight hug until Angelica felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“I’m so sorry,” Angelica said. “I didn’t mean for Aerdan to come after me.”

Zornaya laughed wearily. “Child, I could not have stopped him with a thousand horses,” she said. “I’m just so relieved that the both of you are safe and sound back in Zheka.”

Angelica nodded. She yawned – suddenly, the strain of her ordeal was beginning to take a heavy toll on her.

“Come, child, to the castle,” Zornaya said. She wrapped an arm around Angelica. “And after the two of you are rested, we will feast. It’s not every day that my only son does me so proudly.”

Aerdan was still rubbing the sore spot on his cheek. “You didn’t have to hit me so hard,” he said sourly.

“You’ve had worse,” Zornaya said pleasantly. “Now, to the castle.”

Aerdan and Angelica rode together in a carriage, sending their horses to the royal stable with a page. Angelica barely had the energy to think, much less speak. But once she was alone with Aerdan and there was no danger of Glasule, she licked her lips.

“Aerdan…who is Muertha?”

Aerdan laughed humorlessly. “A wench of Glasule,” he said. “Someone I was ordered to marry…if I couldn’t find a bride in my own realm.”

“Oh,” Angelica said softly. She shifted as the carriage rumbled over a bumpy patch of dirt. “She…she told me that I ruined everything for her, that I was responsible for ruining her prospects.”

“That isn’t true,” Aerdan said. He sighed. “I’m sure the king and queen of Glasule hoped I’d marry her. After all, I’m due to take a bride very soon.”

Angelica nodded. “I know,” she said quietly.

“I’m so very sorry you had to go through that,” Aerdan said. He sighed. “I should have protected you. I should have fought Namaya before you could give yourself up.”

“No,” Angelica said. “The lives of your whole family were at stake, Aerdan. I know exactly why you didn’t.”

“What you did was very brave,” Aerdan said.

As the carriage rolled slowly towards the castle, Aerdan told Angelica of how everyone in the kingdom was mourning her.

“They are going to be so pleased to find you are alive,” Aerdan finished. “And I am, too,” he added. He reached for Angelica’s hand and squeezed tightly. “I was so frightened that I wouldn’t find you in good spirits.”

Angelica wanted to laugh, but she didn’t have the energy. “I can’t believe a whole kingdom is mourning me,” she said softly. “Back home, in New York…I bet the only people who care are my friends.” She shrugged.

“What of your family, lady?”

Angelica bit her lip. “My parents died when I was in college,” she said. “A car crash. I was an only child.”

“Perhaps you will allow my family to be your family as well,” Aerdan said slowly. “I know my mother has grown quite fond of you.”

Angelica’s cheeks flushed and she bit her lip. “Perhaps,” she said softly.

The carriage rumbled to a stop. The people of Zheka had gathered around the castle and they cheered and clapped loudly as guards escorted Angelica and Aerdan to their respective chambers. For a moment, Angelica debated asking Aerdan if she could accompany him. But a huge yawn made her feel weak and tired. There’s time to talk with him later, she thought as she slipped out of Namaya’s cloak and the shreds of her muslin dress. The sheets on her bed were cool and soft, and soon, she was in a deep sleep.

When Angelica woke up, the sky was pitch dark. The sea outside of Zheka was calm and rolling, and she opened her window for a fresh breeze as she dressed. The castle was bellowing with the laughter and cheer of the Zhekan people. Angelica felt a small thrill rush through her body as she soaped at her wash-stand.

A loud knock at the door made Angelica jump.

“Just a moment,” she called. “I’ll be right there.”

With trembling fingers, Angelica pulled on a new silk gown – a gift from Queen Zornaya. It was dark blue. The deep color against her pale skin was beautiful – even Angelica had to admit that she thought she looked nice.

When Angelica opened the door to her chamber, she was surprised to see Aerdan.

“Come to escort me to the feast?”

Aerdan’s blue eyes were glittering with lust and admiration. When he spoke, his voice was deep and husky.

“No, lady,” Aerdan said. He stepped into her chamber and then shut the door behind him, locking it tightly.

Angelica felt arousal coil in her lower belly. For a moment, she and Aerdan stared at each other, their eyes locked in a mutual passion. Then they moved together and Angelica closed her eyes as Aerdan’s lips trailed a passionate row of kisses down her neck and the bodice of her gown.

“I was just dressed,” Angelica moaned as Aerdan’s hands slid under her gown and caressed her bare legs. “What about the feast? We’ll be late,” she added, her eyes rolling back in her head as Aerdan crushed her to his chest and kissed her deeply.

“The gods may have the feast,” Aerdan growled. Slipping one arm under Angelica’s body, he carried her to the bed and gently laid her down on the mattress. Angelica moaned softly as Aerdan lay on top of her, kissing her deeply. His tongue probed the inner hidden places of her mouth and she spread her legs and arched her back underneath her lover.

“Oh,” Angelica moaned. Aerdan straddled her, pushing her into the bed with his powerful bulk. In the dim light, his blue eyes flashed like sapphires. Aerdan tangled his hands in Angelica’s hair and gently tugged at her scalp, pulling her chin up and exposing her delicate neck. When Angelica felt Aerdan’s lips and teeth on her sensitive skin, she moaned and writhed beneath him.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you,” Aerdan growled. He pulled at the laces to Angelica’s gown, tugging the delicate silk away from her body. Underneath she only wore a garment of sheer cotton. Angelica’s nipples were stiff under the fabric and when Aerdan lowered his mouth to her breasts and began to suck, she thought she would explode with pleasure. Lust and arousal crawled through her, mingling with the adrenaline and desperation she felt having been faced with the prospect of never seeing Aerdan again. When Aerdan wrapped his arm under her body and pulled her up, Angelica peeled the silk gown from her arms and locked eyes with her lover.

“I missed you so desperately,” Angelica gasped. “I had to find you, Aerdan.”

Aerdan wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and kissing her deeply. Angelica ran her hands over his smooth, muscular body – underneath his own silk clothing, he felt as lithe and powerful as a tiger. She closed her eyes and lowered her face to his neck, nipping and kissing at the deeply tanned skin. Aerdan groaned with pleasure. Angelica ran her hands over his leggings, gently rubbing the bulk at the fork of his legs. The thought of his hard manhood filling her made her gasp with pleasure and soon, Angelica was fumbling at the laces to Aerdan’s loose trousers.

Aerdan gently pushed Angelica back down on the bed. He ripped the delicate cotton away from her chest and lowered his face to her nipples, where he began to suck and lick. Angelica went wild. She arched her back and moaned, writhing under Aerdan’s powerful body. As eagerly as she could, she pulled the rest of her silk dress away from her body and tossed it to the side. Being naked underneath Aerdan felt completely natural and soon, Angelica was begging for him to touch her most secret place.

“Please,” Angelica whimpered. She took Aerdan’s large hand and moved it down her bare body, gently rubbing her lower belly and sliding his fingers between her legs. As Aerdan gently probed and stroked her, Angelica spread her legs and buried her face in the pillows to keep from shrieking with pleasure. She could feel Aerdan’s thumb stroking long, delicious circles around her hardened nub of pleasure and she knew that her skin was bright red with the intense arousal she felt. She no longer cared how she looked – the pleasure inside of her body was driving her wild.

“I need you,” Aerdan growled. He pulled his tunic away, and then stepped out of his silken leggings. With his hard manhood protruding from his body, Angelica was having a difficult time controlling her lust. She shivered in anticipation as Aerdan crawled on the bed. Spreading her legs, she waited for him to mount her.

Instead, Aerdan shook his head. He gave Angelica a playful grin.

“Come here,” Aerdan said. He reclined on his back, his manhood bobbing in the air. Angelica blushed hotly as Aerdan took her by the hand and guided her on top of him, until she was riding him astride.

As Aerdan’s manhood slowly slid into Angelica, she threw her head back and moaned. The tips of her dark hair brushed against her sweaty back and she began to grind and rock her hips. Aerdan put his hands to her breasts, gently pinching and rolling her nipples between his fingers as she rode him. Angelica began to moan. She leaned forward and braced herself against Aerdan’s strong chest, bucking hard. Sweat dripped from her face as the explosively delicious sensations built in her lower belly. When her orgasm hit, she was surprised by the intensity. Amazing sensations gripped her and she could barely remember to breathe. Aerdan grabbed her by the hips and began moving her harder on top of his stiff member. Even as her orgasm slowed, Angelica felt nothing but intense pleasure as Aerdan moved his body beneath hers, brushing her most sensitive area with his pubic bone.

“Gods,” Aerdan cried, closing his eyes and groaning. He bucked his chest and shoved his hips high into the air, driving deeper and deeper inside of Angelica’s body. Grabbing Angelica’s hands, he pulled her body down on top of his under her stiff nipples were rubbing against his smooth chest. When he exploded inside of her, Angelica felt the most intense pleasure she’d ever experienced. Soon, she was coming for a second time and they bucked and gasped and moved together in a frenzy of passion.

Angelica lay against Aerdan, breathing hard. He pushed her sweaty bangs away from her eyes and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the top of her head with a sweaty mouth.

Angelica sighed with happiness. After a few seconds, she slid off of Aerdan and curled up next to him, fitting her head in the hollow of his shoulder and draping her arm across his perfect body.

“That was amazing,” Angelica said. She sighed happily again and nuzzled Aerdan’s neck, enjoying the musky fragrance emanating from his body. Pushing a hand into his dark, sweaty hair, she propped herself up on an elbow and stared deeply into his sapphire eyes.

“And they say only women in Zheka get to experience magic,” Aerdan joked. The two laughed quietly for a moment, then faded into a comfortable silence.

The sweat on Angelica’s body began to cool and she pulled the sheet over herself.

“Shouldn’t we dress? Go to the feast?”

Aerdan grinned. He rolled on his belly and winked at her. “I have a secret,” he said. “I ordered two platters to be brought up…right about now.”

Angelica flushed. “You’re awfully cocky,” she said. “How did you know I wouldn’t tell you to wait?”

Aerdan shrugged. “I didn’t,” he said. “Just a lucky guess.”

Angelica smiled happily. “Well, you were right,” she said softly.

Aerdan stroked her hair. “Angelica, if I may ask, how do you feel about me?”

There it was. The question she’d been waiting to hear ever since the first mention of marriage had happened. The question she’d been waiting to respond to ever since Muertha had spelled things out for her in grim, unpleasant terms.

Angelica licked her lips. “I’m falling in love with you, Aerdan,” she said quietly. “But I don’t think that I’m ready for marriage yet.” Her heart squeezed and tears came to her eyes. “If you…if you have to marry someone else, I understand.”

Aerdan grinned. He pulled Angelica close and kissed her deeply. “No,” he said. “Angelica, I don’t want anyone but you. Until I met you, I’ve never known love.” He swallowed. “But, that being said…I, too, am not ready for marriage. I don’t think that I am ready to settle down and stay at the castle. I find I yearn for more excitement and adventure.”

Angelica sighed with relief. “Nor should I think you’re all that eager about fighting six men just to win me.” She blushed. “Not that I’m planning on asking you to do that, or anything,” she added quickly. “I could never see another show again and be quite happy about it.”

Aerdan chuckled, faking offense. “No,” he said. “But, for you, I would win,” he added, puffing his chest out.

Angelica burst out laughing. “There’s a surprise for you, too,” she said softly. Climbing out of bed, she pulled Namaya’s cloak around herself, giggling when Aerdan groaned.

“Don’t deprive me of the sight of your body,” Aerdan said.

“Trust me, you’ll want to see this,” Angelica replied. She reached into the pockets and pulled out vast handfuls of golden coins, dropping them on the bed.

Aerdan’s jaw dropped. “What? How? What…what is this?”

“I guess her pockets were bewitched,” Angelica said. “I didn’t even notice until I was out of the castle, but this was all inside of her cloak.” She swallowed. “It’s enough for a ship,” she said. “A ship of our own…one that could carry us across the seas on our adventures.”

Aerdan blinked. “You want to do that?”

Angelica grinned. “I do,” she said. “Maybe then I can find some clues about how to get back home, you know – if I ever feel like going back to New York.”

Aerdan grinned. “Come here,” he said. He pulled Angelica close and kissed her deeply. “You’re wonderful,” Aerdan said. “I wouldn’t want to adventure with anyone but you.”

Angelica snuggled happily into the arms of her lover. “I know exactly what you mean,” she murmured drowsily.

EPILOGUE

Namaya stood at her table, leaning over her scrying glass and waving her fingers in the misty surface. Her green eyes glowed with hatred and evil as she parted the clouds. When she saw a beautiful castle surrounded by blue seas and green fields, her eyes narrowed into tiny, angry slits.

Curse them, Namaya thought as she leaned closer, making the castle bigger. The Zhekan castle was decorated for the feast of a hero. Gold and red flags flew from each parapet, and Namaya could hear the sound of cheering crowds from where she stood. Hatred and evil swelled in her heart. For a few moments, she was silent. Then, with all her might, she smashed the scrying glass to the floor. The bowl shattered into a million tiny little pieces. Some of the glass pierced Namaya’s bare feet, but she no longer felt pain.

She had not felt pain in hundreds of years.

At least, not physical pain.

“They have tricked me,” Namaya said to her familiar, Eris, a large black cat perched on the floor. “They have deceived me! And that damnable wench, that girl! Stole my cloak and the stone!”

Eris blinked at his mistress with big yellow eyes.

“I will not rest until they are both destroyed,” Namaya vowed, taking a knife from the folds of her robes and stalking to the hearth. Despite the warm weather, a large blaze roared against the iron grate. Namaya took a handful of potent herbs from the mantle and tossed them into the flames. Soon, the room was filled with a thick green smoke.

Namaya held her hand over the fire and sliced her palm with the knife, dripping blood onto the flames. A musky, warm scent filled the room and clouded her head. Soon, her eyes glazed over with white and she crumpled to the floor, deep in a trance.

As the evil sorceress of Glasule lay twitching on the floor, dark clouds filled the sky and the sea began to froth and twist.

They will pay for their transgressions. I will not rest until their souls have been ripped into a thousand pieces.

ZHEKAN MATES - BOOK TWO

CHAPTER ONE

Huen

“Huen!” Deratha snapped. “You’re not even paying attention!”

Huen Covendane sighed, raking a hand through his fair hair and rolling his eyes. “Mother, you can’t possibly have anything new to say to me that you haven’t said before,” he groaned. “Can’t you please just leave me in peace?”

Deratha’s brown eyes raged with an angry fire. “Son, you have disrespected your father and me for the last time!”

“Good,” Huen said sarcastically. “Now maybe you’ll leave me alone and stay off my back!”

Deratha sighed. She sat down in the wooden chair at Huen’s desk, scowling as she looked over the mess of paper and ink.

“What’s this,” she asked, plucking a piece of parchment and holding it high in the air. “Huen, you can’t tell me you’ve been studying again,” she added, making the word sound worse that the most heinous insult.

“I haven’t,” Huen lied.

Deratha closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Son, I understand you are frustrated,” she said. “But this is not the life for you, do you understand?”

“We’ve only been through this about a thousand times,” Huen said sulkily.

Deratha looked at her son. For a moment, she seemed to soften. Then she pressed her lips into a firm line of bloodless white.

“I do not understand why I was cursed with a son like you,” she said, getting to her feet. Although Deratha was only in her mid-fifties, her back slumped like that of an old woman.

Huen shrugged and snorted. “I have no idea,” he said, trying to conceal his bitter anger and sadness. “I know you’d be much happier if I were someone like Aerdan.”

“Do not sneer the name of the Commander,” Deratha said angrily. “Huen, I can’t believe you!”

Huen glared at his mother. “Mother, are you serious? Aerdan is my closest friend,” he said. “But unlike me, he is reformed. That is what I was referring to.”

Deratha shook her head. “You are impossible,” she said. She reached into her robes and pulled out a small leather envelope. “This is for you,” she said. “From Eris. I would read it over and make her a hasty reply if I were you.”

Huen reached for the letter, fully intending to burn it without reading. “Yes, Mother,” he said. “Is there anything else?”

Deratha looked at her son for a long time. “Huen, I love you most dearly,” she said. “And I can tell you’re not quite happy as you are…why not embrace the Zhekan way and your heritage? Wouldn’t that make your heart content?”

“No,” Huen said sourly. “I do not think it would.”

Deratha shook her head, muttering under her breath as she left Huen’s chamber. Once she was gone, Huen bolted across the stone floor, shut the door, and locked it with a satisfied smirk.

It’s been over a month, and she refuses to let me be, Huen thought angrily to himself. He crossed the floor and flopped onto his bed, the crumpled parchment from Eris still clutched in his hand. He thought about balling it up and tossing it on the grate of the fire. But after a moment, curiosity got the best of him and he broke the wax seal and began to read.

“My betrothed,

You cannot imagine the pain and sorrow you have brought to my family, and to me. I was always raised to think of myself as an ideal bride, and I am sorry I have failed to meet your expectation. I—“

“That’s enough,” Huen muttered under his breath. He ripped the parchment into shreds and threw them at the ceiling, watching as they fluttered back down towards him like confetti.

The trouble had started long ago. Zhekan men have always been expected to wed before the age of thirty, and Huen was no exception. While he was a child, Deratha had arranged for Huen to wed Eris, a distant royal cousin. She was a perfectly suitable girl – pretty, meek, and skilled in the art of sorcery.

And boring, Huen thought, remembering the simpering way Eris had greeted him during their one and only chaperoned visit. I can barely recall anything unique about her!

Huen had known the day would come, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon. On the morning of his thirtieth birthday, he’d woken up feeling exactly the same. He’d known that he wouldn’t be able to wed Eris.

So, instead of doing the right thing, Huen fled. He rode his stallion through the woods all day, quietly contemplating what would happen when he returned to the grand house just outside of the castle where he lived. He had known his mother would be angry.

What he hadn’t known was that his mother would sentence him to manual labor as punishment for disobeying her. It’s ridiculous, Huen thought, staring angrily at his ceiling. I’m a grown man – why am I supposed to listen to my mother? I’m not a little boy anymore.

Now, Huen spent backbreaking days out in the hot sun, carrying stones and buckets of water with Zhekan peasants. He suspected the true intention of the punishment was not to break him physically, but rather humiliate him, as he had humiliated Deratha, his father Atrian, and the whole kingdom of Zheka…not to mention poor Eris, who had been led away from the altar in tears.

Huen knew that as soon as he agreed to wed Eris, the punishment would stop. But despite hating the physical exertion of his new day to day life, Huen wasn’t willing to stoop so low.

“I’ll only marry when I find the right girl,” Huen had told Deratha. “And you can do whatever you want, but you won’t change my mind.”

Atrian had taken pity on his son and offered him many visits to the royal brothel. But Huen was no naïve young man – he’d seduced and bedded many of the girls around the kingdom. At first, it had been fun. But as he’d begun to age, Huen found casual lovemaking less satisfying than ever before. Why it’s better to stroke my own cock than spending an hour making eyes at some wench, Huen thought, rolling his eyes and turning over in bed. These girls are so boring, it’s all the same! Oh, Huen, how strong you are! Oh, Huen, what big muscles you have! It’s like they’re praising a horse for its fine teeth and build.

Huen sat up in bed and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. Even though it was still very early in the morning, the weather outside was scorching hot. The idea of carrying heavy boulders on his back made Huen cringe with distaste, and he decided that he was going to take the day off.

It’s not like Mother can find another way to punish me, Huen thought arrogantly as he pulled on leather trousers and a tunic top. What is she going to do, send me to the dungeons?

After filling a skin with water, Huen sauntered out of his chamber, down the spiral stone staircase, and outside into the bright sun. A breeze blew his fair hair and he closed his eyes as a smile spread across his face. Huen walked to the stables and saddled his stallion, Vlad, before mounting the giant black beast and setting off for the castle.

Aerdan will be happy to see me, Huen thought as he rode. It’s been far too long since we spent a day riding through the woods.

At the castle gates, Huen sent a message for Aerdan and waited, staring into the moat. Crocodiles swam through the murky waters. If Mother forces me to marry Eris, I’ll dive into the waters of the moat, Huen thought, shuddering with self-pity. I’d rather die than spend the rest of my life chained to someone who doesn’t understand me at all.

When Aerdan appeared, Huen grinned.

“Friend,” Aerdan said. He smirked. “How are you on this hot day?”

Huen shrugged. “I’m not working today,” he said. “I felt like I deserved a little…vacation.”

Aerdan burst out laughing. “You wish every day to be a vacation,” he said. “Come, to the royal stables. Tlatse will be saddled and waiting.”

The two men walked to the stables, joking and laughing.

“Cousin,” Aerdan said. “I realize this isn’t something you want to hear, but have you ever considered finding a bride on your own?”

Huen wrinkled his nose. “The royal women are so boring,” he said. “I do not wish to spend the rest of my life being talked down to by some aspiring debutante who thinks herself better than I.”

Aerdan laughed. “They’re not all bad,” he said.

Huen groaned. “Easy for you to say,” he said bitterly. “You found someone perfectly suitable, and she isn’t even a Zhekan native!”

Aerdan rolled his eyes. “Do not bring Angelica into this,” he said. “Huen, you need to…well, you need to adjust your expectations. Many arranged matches turn into love, don’t you see that?”

Huen stared at his friend. “And yet, if someone had said the same to you…”

Aerdan chuckled. “Perhaps you are correct,” he said. “But I have a feeling that the difference lies here.” He tapped the side of his forehead. “You have ideas above your station,” he added quietly. “You know men in this land are not born to be scholars.” Aerdan puffed out his chest and held up his arm, showing off his bulging biceps. “We are born to be powerful men,” Aerdan added.

Huen sighed in disgust. “Don’t remind me,” he said. “You’re beginning to sound like my mother!”

Aerdan laughed. “It’s true,” he said. “You have to give up on that stupid notion of yours, you’re never going to become a scholar.”

Huen sighed again. Deep down, he wondered if his friend wasn’t correct – it was unlikely. There was no such thing as a learned man in Zheka. The Royals and high-born men were taught to read and write, and that was precisely the end of their education. But since he was a child, Huen had dreamt of learning languages and knowledge, mathematics, the physical sciences, and poetry. Books called to him – they’d held the same alluring siren song since he was just a boy. Huen had hoped his urges to study would fade with age, but if anything, they had grown stronger than ever before.

“I cannot take a wife among these women,” Huen said, glancing around as a large bunch of royal women walked past, simpering and tossing their heads. “They would lord over me until the day of my death.”

Aerdan shrugged. He had a goofy look on his normally handsome, distinguished face. “It’s different when you fall in love,” he said.

Huen rolled his eyes. “Indeed,” he said bitterly. “Easy for you to say.”

The men lapsed into silence as Aerdan mounted Tlatse. Soon, they were racing into the woods. Huen was glad for the cool shade of the trees and the leaves. The sound of a babbling brook filled his ears and he sighed with contentment and relaxation.

“Perhaps I am not meant for the royal life,” Huen said. “Perhaps I should build a small hut in the woods, and live out the rest of my days.”

Aerdan burst out laughing. “And who would cook for you? Who would clean?”

“I’d hire someone,” Huen said.

Aerdan snickered. “With what money?”

Huen groaned. “Stop being so pragmatic,” he said. “Can’t you allow me an escapist fantasy once in a while? Be generous,” he added. “The gods know I indulged you long enough!”

Aerdan nodded. “You did,” he said. “But I came of age, and grew into my responsibilities.” He sighed. “You still have some learning to do.”

Huen’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’m your best friend, and your cousin,” he said. “Have some sympathy!”

Aerdan nodded. “I do,” he said. “But there comes a time when each man needs to grow up. Huen, you’ll get there. Do not worry.”

Huen bit his tongue. Instead of engaging Aerdan further, he kicked his heels into Vlad’s side and went racing through the woods. Nothing cleared Huen’s mind like being on the back of a stallion, and he closed his eyes, trusting Vlad to navigate them safely over the treacherous ground. It’s exhilarating, he thought as Vlad soared over a fallen tree trunk. To not have a care in the world except whether or not you’re going to fall! If only I could feel that way all the time, and be content with what I’ve been given in this life!

Huen and Aerdan rode together all day until they were sore and sunburnt. Huen dreaded returning home. When he and Aerdan parted ways, Huen was almost tempted to ride back into the woods and spend a cool night below the velvet sky and stars. But instead, he squared his shoulders and walked into the luxurious home, prepared to face Deratha’s wrath.

“Mother?” Huen called. “I am home, has supper been served?”

Deratha was nowhere to be seen. Huen frowned, stepping into the large kitchen. It was filled with delicious meat-scented smoke and damp, hot air from pots filled with vegetables and stew.

Huen reached into the larder and pulled out a crusty roll, some salted ham, and a piece of cheese. He ripped open the roll and stuffed the ham and cheese inside before taking a huge bite and chewing thoroughly.

“Son.”

Atrian’s booming voice filled Huen’s ears. Huen spat out the mouthful of bread and cheese, trying to look dignified as he whirled around.

“Yes?”

“You were missing from the labor crew this morning, and again at sundown,” Atrian boomed. “I went to inspect the progress of the bridge, and you were nowhere to be seen.”

“I was in a lot of pain this morning,” Huen lied. “I went riding in the woods today.”

Atrian narrowed his eyes. He flexed his muscles, looking as large as a tree. “Son, you are forcing me to make a very difficult decision,” he said. “Your mother can no longer handle you – are you seeking punishment?”

“You know that I am not,” Huen said defiantly. “But if I break my back working, I won’t be able to find a bride.”

Atrian snorted. “You’d do just as well with an injury,” he said. “You don’t wish to wed, anyway.”

Huen glared. “I have not found the right bride,” he thundered back. “I will, eventually. I swear it.”

“And make some poor girl wed an old man?” Atrian threw his head back and laughed. Even in laughter, the sight of him was intimidating enough to chill Huen’s blood. Atrian was tall and huge, with bulging muscles and tattoos all over his body. His fair hair was braided with beads and feathers and it fanned from his shoulders in an intimidating mane.

“Curse you, father,” Huen muttered under his breath. He threw the bread and cheese to the floor, no longer angry. His blood was boiling as he ran out of his grand home, towards the show arena. Huen normally hated to fight – he hated the discomfort, the pain, the injuries after. But he was flooded with such strong anger and adrenaline that right now, he knew it was the only thing to do.

As Huen reached the outskirts of the castle grounds, he looked over the show arena. Flames licked high into the black night and Huen shivered as the cries and grunts of warriors and showmen filled his ears. With any luck, I’ll be killed, he thought as he quickened his pace to a run. By now, his heart was thudding in his muscular chest and his eyes were wide.

The arena was staffed by the lower-class men of Zheka. They barely noticed Huen as he shed his cloak with the royal insignia and walked into the arena.

There wasn’t an official event for weeks, but Huen could tell the sweaty men streaked with grime and soot had been practicing all day. An enormous man walked past Huen, covered in scratches and blood stains. Caged lions and tigers paced at the other side of the arena.

Or better yet, let me in there, Huen thought, staring at one of the tigers as it gnawed savagely at a huge hunk of raw meat. At least that way, it would be over quickly.

Huen puffed out his chest and walked over to the largest man he could find – a massive warrior, tattooed and filthy with sweat and blood. He smelled like a stable, and Huen made a fist and punched the man in the shoulder.

“Guh,” the man grunted, whirling around with anger in his eyes.

“Fight me,” Huen said. He bared his teeth and growled, stepping in nimble circles around the man. Huen wasn’t as large as some of the Zhekan men, but he was quick and slender, with a well-defined body and an even more agile mind. He’d rarely lost a fight, but right now, Huen was in the blackest of moods.

The man grunted and glared, walking closer to Huen with heavy footsteps.

Huen made a fist and swung, expecting to punch the man in the jaw. But the man was surprisingly quick for his size, and he grabbed Huen’s fist and twisted it down, keeping a tight grip. Huen groaned in pain as his wrist snapped. Agony exploded in his arm and he growled, ripping his wrist free from the giant.

The man reached forward and grabbed Huen by the hair, tangling his fat fingers in Huen’s fair locks. He swung Huen forward and pushed, hard, until Huen went scrambling to the ground. His heart was racing in panic and his wrist was throbbing in pain as he hauled himself to his feet, skittering back and leaping from one foot to the other.

The man advanced and Huen threw another punch, swinging his good arm until his fist connected with the giant’s chest. It felt like punching a wall of marble, and Huen staggered, cradling his now-sore hand with his useless broken wrist. Pain and adrenaline flooded his body as he darted around, flailing his sore hand over his head.

Huen stumbled again, tripping over his own feet. The giant man approached, glaring down. From where he lay on the ground, Huen felt even smaller. The giant man roared and raised his leg high into the air, preparing to crash down on Huen’s femur. Huen gasped and rolled to the side just in time for the man’s foot to stamp into the ground. A cloud of dust rose, temporarily blinding Huen. He coughed and hacked, covering his mouth and nose with his left hand. From out of seemingly nowhere, the giant grabbed Huen’s arm and flung him across the arena. Huen skidded and stumbled, regaining his balance. His right arm hung uselessly from his side and adrenaline flooded his brain as he tried to think of how best to win. With a fierce growl, he ran forward and lowered his head, charging his powerful opponent with all of the strength left in his body.

Huen sent the giant flying and he immediately attacked punching and kicking. He reached for a staff and whipped it through the air until the blunt end crashed into the man’s head and his eyes rolled back.

Huen stood there, his heart beating wildly. Pain racked through his body and he couldn’t even think straight. He shivered and shook. Just then, he noticed a large crowd of men approaching him with menacing expressions on their faces.

“Hey, you! Get back here,” one of the men growled. “You can’t just come in here and attack our showmen!”

Huen panicked. Turning on his heel, he ran and fled the show arena. As he ran, the pain in his wrist grew. When he looked down, he gasped to see shards of creamy ivory bone poking through his tanned flesh.

Huen wouldn’t have admitted it for all the gold in Zheka, but the sight of blood had always made him faintly nauseous. He felt his stomach flip and turn, and his legs turn to jelly as he stared down at his ruined wrist. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, hitting the hard ground like a sack of bricks.

“Mother! Look and see!”

The girl’s excited cry was the last thing Huen heard before losing consciousness.

CHAPTER TWO

Aine

Aine bent over the unfamiliar man, blinking in surprise. The first thing that struck her was the man’s beauty. He had delicate, sculpted features that looked more like a statue than a real man of flesh and blood. His smooth skin was tanned and golden from days spent in the sun, and his cropped fair hair looked so soft she wanted to run her fingers through it.

“Sir?” Aine asked softly. “Sir, what’s happened to you?”

A moment later, Aine’s adoptive mother, Mie Brevenswood, darted over with her hands twisted in her apron. When she saw Aine, she narrowed her eyes.

“Daughter, best leave the man,” she said. “Come, back to the home. You have not finished your chores.”

Aine frowned. “Mother, he’s hurt,” she said. “We should help him.” Aine brushed the stranger’s hair out of his eyes. “He doesn’t look common,” she said. “He looks like a royal.”

Mie rolled her eyes. “Aine, come,” she said sternly. “No royal would be caught in this part of Zheka, and you know it.”

Aine bit her lip. “Mother…I want to help him,” she said. “Perhaps you could finally teach me the healing arts!”

Mie sighed. This wasn’t the first time her headstrong, adopted daughter had brought up wanting to learn the traditional arts of Zhekan women. Normally, at the age of twenty-six, a Zhekan girl like Aine would be well-trained. She’d have a specialty, and she’d be looking for a suitable husband.

But Aine wasn’t a Zhekan girl. She’d originally been born in the kingdom of Glasule, abandoned by her parents. Her adoptive father, Thom, had found her wrapped in a blanket in the woods, near the Zhekan border. Mie and Thom hadn’t been able to have children of their own, and Thom had brought the baby girl home as a surprise for his wife.

Mie sniffed. “Perhaps,” she said. “But I warn you, daughter, do not go getting ideas above your station. If you care for this man, he is your responsibility. And you must understand that he has the right to leave and never speak to you, not even to thank you. Assuming he is of royal blood, that is,” she added, looking down her nose at the limp body on the ground.

Aine smiled. As gently as she could, she slid her arm under the man’s legs and pulled him up against her. He was surprisingly heavy – while lean and slender as a cat, Aine could tell that every inch of his body was muscle and grit. I wonder how he got so hurt, she thought as she looked down at his wounded wrist, wincing at the sight of blood and shards of bone.

The stranger murmured and groaned as Aine carried him gently inside the small, crudely hewn cabin where she lived with Mie and Thom.

“Mother, I’m going to set him down by the fire,” Aine said softly. “I think he is beginning to stir.”

“Very good,” Mie said. “And here,” she added, handing a leather-bound volume to Aine. “Be very careful with this.”

“For it is the only book we own,” Aine recited back, having heard her mother’s warning many times over her twenty-six years. Aine couldn’t have named how many hours she’d spent staring at the worn book, with the gold lettering on the spine too faded to read. It was her mother’s spellbook, and Aine had been forbidden from even glancing at the pages.

“You will find potions for healing, for draining the infection from the blood,” Mie said. “And you may use this to bind his wrist.” She handed Aine a faded shift.

Aine smiled and dipped into a curtsey. “Yes, Mother,” she said.

Aine stayed up the whole night, caring for the stranger. She washed and bound his wounds, then brewed a simple potion with trace amounts of wormwood and lavender, meant to ward off infection. Still, the strange man was feverish. His skin was damp and hot all night long, and Aine dabbed at his forehead with a bit of cloth leftover from the shift. By the time the sky was beginning to lighten with the first sign of coming dawn, Aine was exhausted.

“Do not think you may rest, daughter,” Mie said in the early morning. “I need you to finish sewing the gauntlets, they were commissioned by a very wealthy man.”

Aine stifled a yawn. “Yes,” she said, bowing her head. “I will make sure they are finished by the end of the day.”

But even with her leatherwork in her hand, Aine couldn’t stop staring at the stranger. He twitched and shook, trembling and murmuring in his sleep. Aine wondered if he was even conscious of what had happened. She was so curious to find out what had happened to this man that she felt she would burst if she never learned the truth.

It was a slow day. Aine’s hands were sore and sloppy at needlework, from a night of ripping worn muslin into strips and stirring heavy, aromatic potions that made her feel sleepy. She repeatedly dozed off, only waking up to the sound of a sharp cough from Mie.

Mie and Thom were quite poor. Mie took in sewing from the nobility – she wasn’t overly skilled when it came to potions and spells. Thom had, in his day, been a prize fighter in the shows. Mie liked to tell Aine of the days when they had been prosperous. But now Thom was a lazy drunk. He occasionally did seasonal labor with the farms dotting the Zhekan countryside, but most of their meager income came from Mie and her needlework.

Just as Aine was stifling another yawn, the man stirred. He blinked, opening his eyes and looking around. When he saw Aine, his mouth twisted in disgust.

“What kind of hell have I gotten myself into now?” The man looked at Aine. “Where am I? What’ve you done with me?” His voice was arrogant and throaty, much lower than Aine would have predicted based on his fair looks.

“Sir, do not be angry with me,” Aine said. She rose to her feet and looked down at him, holding her chin high in the way noble women did. “I have cared for you and dressed your wound. Your wrist is quite broken,” she said. “And it will be for some time. But thanks to my care, you will not die.”

The man didn’t reply. He stared at her crossly. “My wrist hurts,” he said. “Have you no skills?”

Aine rolled her eyes. “Enough,” she said. She poured cold water from a pitcher into an earthenware mug and passed it to the man. “Drink this,” she said. “Sir, what is your name?”

“I can’t very well tell you my name while I’m drinking, can I,” the man said crossly. “I am called Huen. Huen Covendane, of the kingdom of Zheka.”

Aine’s eyes flew open and she flushed. “Oh, sir,” she said. “I had no idea!”

Huen glared at her. He took a long drink of water.

Aine took the mug back from Huen and set it on the ground, reaching forward to wipe his lips with a cloth. She got to her feet and scurried over to Mie’s herb table, where she mixed a new solution of wormwood and lavender. Carrying it back to Huen, she got to her knees and passed the mug.

“Drink this,” Aine said. “It will prevent infection. That was a bad break! What could have possibly happened, did you fall off a horse?”

Huen didn’t reply. He greedily drank the concoction and leaned back against his makeshift pillow, an old shirt that Aine had filled with straw and placed under his head.

When he had finished the drink, Aine took the cup from his hands and went outside to wash it in the small spring Thom had coaxed from the earth. By the time she was back inside the small house, Huen had fallen asleep.

Aine frowned. A bit of a rude man, really, she thought as she tossed her light curls over one shoulder and sighed. Her back and neck ached from hunching over her sewing, but the light was beginning to fade and Aine knew that Mie would soon be home and demanding to know why Aine’s work wasn’t finished.

With a sigh, Aine settled back down and scooted close to the hearth of the fire. She sewed nimbly and quickly, her fingers dancing with the broad needle over the flaps of leather. Biting her lip, she tried to push all thoughts of Huen out of her head.

It was dark by the time Mie returned home.

“Daughter,” she said. “How is our guest?”

Aine shrugged. “He woke, briefly. I gave him more of the wormwood.”

Mie nodded. “And the gauntlets?”

Aine handed them over and Mie inspected them in the dim light of the fire.

“Well done,” she said. “Tomorrow you can begin work on the gown commissioned by Lady Noore.”

Aine nodded, trying not to look as miserable as she felt inside. I’m so exhausted, she thought as she sank down by the fireplace and warmed her numb hands to the flames. It feels as though I’ve been awake for a week!

Aine barely had time to relax before Mie called her.

“Aine, come eat something,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I expect you’ll be up with your patient all night.”

Aine nodded. She was still thrilled to finally be learning magic – something she’d wanted ever since she’d been a child. But she knew Mie was only allowing her to practice because Mie herself couldn’t be bothered to care for Huen.

“Do not eat so quickly, child,” Mie scolded. “You’re going to choke.”

Aine flushed. “Sorry,” she said softly. She forced herself to chew the chunks of potatoes and mealy carrots in her thin stew. When she was almost done, she spooned the sole chunk of mutton from the bottom of the bowl and closed her eyes as she ate, savoring the salty, rich taste.

The night seemed to go on forever. Aine slumped by the fire with her eyes closed, dozing off every few minutes. Huen slept fitfully – again, he sweated and trembled all night long. Some of the anger and indignance Aine had felt at Huen’s abrasive personality began to fade.

He’s so alone, she thought as she watched his handsome features twitch and jerk. What happened to make him so bitter and angry? He’s a royal cousin – he must have everything he could possibly want!

Aine held her breath as she reached over Huen’s supine body and took his left hand in hers, lifting it close to the fire and inspecting. No – there was no tattoo there. Men and women in Zheka wore blue tattoos around their left ring fingers to indicate marriage.

So there was no quarrel with his wife, even though he looks old enough to wed, Aine thought curiously, frowning as Huen stirred and shifted. As gently as she could, she set his hand back down on his chest. I’ll just have to be content with not knowing, for now, Aine thought. She closed her eyes and leaned against the hearth, aching with exhaustion.

In the morning, Aine’s back was stiff and sore. She groaned as she hauled herself into a standing position, rubbing her lower back with both hands. Aine winced as she walked to her mother’s herb table and brewed yet another potion for Huen when he awoke – this time, she included willow bark and crushed beetles. This should give him vitality, she thought nervously as she stirred the foul-smelling potion, carefully consulting Mie’s spellbook.

Finally, just before Aine took her midday meal, Huen awakened. He forced himself to sit, groaning and rubbing his forehead. When he saw Aine, he narrowed his eyes.

“What’s your name?” Huen asked Aine in a growly voice. “Who are you?”

Aine dipped her head to show respect before meeting Huen’s eyes. They were nice – a warm, soft brown that looked like velvet.

“I am Aine Brevenswood,” she said softly.

“I see,” Huen said curtly. He cleared his throat. “May I have something to drink, Aine? I’m terribly thirsty.”

Aine poured cold water into a mug and handed it over, along with the potion. “This should help you,” she said. “It should give you energy?”

Huen raised an eyebrow. “It should? Are you a woman, or not? How long have you been studying?”

Aine flushed hotly. “Yes, sir,” she said, trying to keep a note of condescension out of her voice. “I am indeed a woman. But no, I have not been studying long.” She closed her eyes and counted. “About thirty hours, perhaps.”

Huen frowned. “And you’re treating me? By the gods! I could have died!”

Aine looked into his face and said calmly: “But you must have wanted to die, sir, to be injured so badly. Did you get into a drunken brawl with some other royal cousin?”

Aine was pleased to watch the frown melt off Huen’s face, replaced by obvious confusion and anger.

“You mock me?” Huen growled. “Madam, I assure you, that is not a wise decision.”

Aine straightened up to her full height and looked down at Huen.

“I was not taught in the ways of Zhekan women because I am not a Zhekan woman,” she said, trying to sound both proud and self-aware. “I was born in Glasule.”

Huen burst out laughing. “No. That cannot be true,” he said, shaking his head. “You are putting me on, surely.”

“I am not, sir,” Aine said. She narrowed her eyes. “What is so funny?”

Huen, still, chuckling, shook his head. “Nothing, lady,” he said. “Just that…well, you don’t exactly look much like a woman of Glasule. You still have your teeth, for one. And both eyes,” he added.

Aine frowned. “Sir, you have no reason to be so rude,” she said slowly. “My adoptive parents thought it would be inappropriate to teach me in the ways of Zhekan women, as I have no natural gifts or abilities.” She bit her lip, hoping the bitterness she felt wasn’t obvious. “I have instead been trained in the art of needlework, sewing, and some simple cooking.”

“You have taken me by surprise, that is all,” Huen said. He gulped down the water and swallowed hard, then reached for the potion. “By gods! This smells disgusting. I thought you said you had experience cooking?”

Aine shrugged. “What is good for us does not always taste good,” she said, remembering a saying she’d heard from Mie years ago. “I am sure it will be beneficial for you.”

Huen looked sulky. “The potions at home taste of nectar,” he said. “Perhaps your ingredients are faulty.”

“I doubt that,” Aine snapped. “Forgive me – my parents lack the wealth to make delicious potions.”

Huen closed his eyes as he drank, making a face at the bitter taste of the potion. When he was done, he handed the cup back to Aine.

“You are welcome,” Aine said crossly. Without waiting for a reply, she walked outside and washed both cups. Then she went back to Huen’s side and knelt, taking his broken wrist in her hands.

“Ouch!” Huen cried. “Be careful!”

Aine took a deep breath. “I am always careful,” she said. “Are you always such a child when it comes to pain?”

Huen glared at her before yanking his wrist free. “I think I am well enough to return home,” he said. He tossed his head and gave Aine an arrogant look. “I’ve spent enough time in this…hut.”

A hot rush of anger surged through Aine and before she could think about what she was doing, she raised her hand and slapped Huen across the face. He stared at her with his mouth open, shocked.

“Sir, I have cared for you nonstop, and yet you see it fit to insult me, my home, and my family,” Aine snapped. “Now leave, and do not return!”

Huen stared at her, breathless.

“Go!” Aine yelled. “Now!” She glared daggers at Huen until he got to his feet, gave her one last bewildered look, then left the small house.

As Aine watched Huen’s muscular frame disappear, she closed her eyes, leaned against the doorframe and sighed. Oh, gods, what have I done, she wondered, her heart thumping quickly in her chest. I was rude to a royal cousin! I refused him medical treatment!

A shiver ran down her spine. But as much as Aine knew she had acted out of turn, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d caught Huen completely by surprise. I bet no one has ever spoken to him like that before, aside from perhaps his mother, Aine thought. An unlikely smile spread across her face. I really gave him something to think about!

CHAPTER THREE

Huen

Little brat, Huen thought as he trudged home towards his parents’ grand home. His wrist was feeling better, but he had a whopping headache, and something had happened to his right leg – he could hardly put any weight on the ankle without pain shooting up and down his body. Still, he knew he was likely in better condition than he would have been without Aine’s care.

With the exception of his overbearing mother, Huen had never been spoken to like that by a woman. He couldn’t believe it – Aine was so beautiful and sweet-looking…until she opened her mouth. Her long fair curls had made a perfect contrast with her unblemished olive skin, and her brown eyes were so dark that Huen hadn’t been able to make out the iris from the pupil. It’s because she’s foreign, and she doesn’t look like anyone else from here, Huen thought, trying to ignore the flicker of desire growing in his belly. He found it unbearable – how could he so attracted to someone so rude, so belligerent! Trying to bed Aine would be like trying to bed one of the tigers in the arena…and just as with a tiger, Huen had a feeling he wouldn’t survive the encounter.

Thinking of the dark fire in Aine’s eyes made Huen shiver. He knew he would never see her again – after all, she had thrown him out of that shameful excuse for a home. But he couldn’t help fantasize, think about her bending over him and tending to his wounds.

By the time Huen returned to his parents’ home, the candles had been snuffed out and the sky overhead was pitch dark. Huen felt apprehension at the thought of going inside, especially with such a grievous injury. Between the pain in his wrist and the complicated feelings for Aine brewing inside his head, Huen was in no mood to face his mother. Instead, he turned left and knocked for the castle drawbridge to descend. Once the guards let him inside, Huen began searching for Aerdan.

“Ah, Huen!”

Huen turned at the sound of Queen Zornaya’s voice. She looked serene and magnificent, as usual. In addition to being fair, intelligent, and gentle, Zornaya was the most gifted sorceress in the kingdom of Zheka. Aerdan and Huen shared an inside joke that perhaps she created anti-aging potions for herself each morning. But regardless of whether or not that was true, Huen couldn’t deny that she had a commanding presence.

Huen dipped his head in respect. “Queen Zornaya, you’re looking lovely this evening,” he said, lowering his eyes in respect.

“Ah, Huen, ever the flatterer,” Zornaya said, her robes swirling over the marble floors. “Are you here to see Aerdan and Angelica?” She tossed her long hair. “Perhaps a night walk might be good for them,” she added.

"Yes," Huen said. “Are they in Aerdan’s chamber?”

“Indeed,” Zornaya replied. She stepped closer and took Huen’s injured wrist in her hands. It ached dreadfully but Huen bit his lip, determined not to show weakness in front of the Queen.

“Why, Huen, you have hurt yourself,” she said. “You boys must be more careful!”

“Yes,” Huen said uncomfortably, not wanting to disclose the circumstances of his injury…or his convalescence. “It was an accident, unfortunately.”

“May I?”

Huen squirmed. “Yes,” he said. He knew he could not refuse the Queen anything, and grit his teeth in a desperate hope to avoid any pain.

Queen Zornaya’s hands were nimble and skilled as she unwrapped the bloody strips of muslin binding Huen’s wrist. When it was unwrapped, she raised her eyebrow and looked at Huen.

“Huen, who cared for you?”

“No one,” Huen said.

“Come now, I can tell you are lying. Tell me, who was it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. A peasant girl on the outskirts of the city, by the show arena.”

“Well,” Zornaya said. “I do not say this readily, but I am impressed. This is some of the finest work I have seen in years.”

Huen frowned as he looked down at his wrist. There were large, crude stitches holding his flesh together, and the edges of the wound were green and yellow and festering with pus.

“It doesn’t look fine,” Huen said. He felt faintly nauseous looking at his hand – it no longer ached as badly, but it felt strange, almost like he was looking at the hand of someone else.

“I know that Huen,” Zornaya said. She wrapped his hand back up and tied the muslin strips in an expert knot. “But it will look much better tomorrow, trust me. Whoever took care of you did a wonderful job, you will heal perfectly.”

Huen blinked. He felt a twinge of guilt at having been so arrogant to Aine. But it’s not my fault, Huen decided as he bowed to the Queen and raced up the stairs to Aerdan’s tower chamber.

“Aerdan!” Huen yelled. “Let me in!”

Aerdan opened the door, laughing. Angelica was seated on the window bench, glancing out over the rolling waves of the Zhekan sea.

“Huen! What happened?” Angelica asked kindly. “Have you been hurt?”

Huen shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “I got in a fight last night.”

Aerdan shook his head. “You should know better,” he said archly. “I’m not about to have my best friend get killed.”

“What’s the point,” Huen said, walking inside and taking a flagon of wine from the table. He poured himself a full goblet and drank most of it at once, letting the wine spill out of his mouth and dribble down his chin.

“Come on,” Aerdan said. “Things will work out for you, Huen. But I do not understand this depression!”

“Neither do I,” Huen said sourly. “I just wish everything would stop.”

Angelica frowned. “Huen, why not sit for a while. I’ll ring the kitchens and have dinner brought up – you look famished.”

Huen’s stomach rumbled. He was almost astonished to realize that he’d had little to eat in almost two days, aside from some thin gruel that Aine had fed him.

“Fine,” Huen said. “But it’s not going to cheer me up.”

“Such a sourpuss,” Angelica said, rolling her eyes. She put a cloak on over her simple nightgown. “I’ll be back,” she said. “Just running down to the kitchens for a moment.”

As soon as she was gone, Huen poured himself another hefty goblet of wine and helped himself.

“Why does she do that?” He asked, gesturing to the door. “You have so many servants.”

Aerdan rolled his eyes. “I have no idea,” he said. “She’s just that way.”

“Odd,” Huen said. He frowned, unable to imagine a life without luxuries and servants. Even performing intense manual labor over the past two months wasn’t as bad for Huen as it was for most – at the end of each backbreaking day, he had a warm bed to come home to, servants, a delicious meal of meat and bread and cheeses and fruits.

Angelica returned, carrying a tray with stew, hunks of bread, and cheese. “The kitchen is going to send up a heartier meal, but I thought we could eat this now as we wait,” she said, setting it down in front of Huen.

Huen fell upon the stew and bread, dipping the chunks into the savory broth and cramming them into his mouth.

“So, what shall we talk about?” Aerdan asked. He reached for his wooden flute. “Shall I play?”

Huen shook his head, then turned to Angelica with his mouth still crammed with food. “Tell me about a story from your land,” he said. “I’m sick of this one – I want to close my eyes and think of myself in a distant place.”

Angelica smiled. “Okay,” she said. “Have I told you the one about the giant ship yet?”

“I don’t think so,” Huen said.

Aerdan laughed. “Oh, this is a good one,” he said. “But it’s so sad!”

Angelica nodded. She gave Huen a kind smile. “It should distract you, at least, from your troubles here.”

Huen took a long gulp of wine. “Yes,” he said. After a moment, feeling boorish, he added: “Please.”

Angelica settled down on a large cushion, looking smug and satisfied.

“So, many years ago – there was a very large ship built meant to cross a huge ocean.” Angelica spread her hands wide, showing the large span. “This ship was the biggest ship the world had ever seen. The rich and wealthy were drawn to the prospect of crossing the waters on this ship because it was the most luxurious they had ever seen.”

Huen nodded, impressed. “Go on.”

“Over three thousand people could fit onboard, including staff,” Angelica said. “And even the lowest, poorest accommodations – they called it steerage, back then – were prohibitively expensive.”

“Wow,” Huen said. “Why would people want to pay so much, just to travel on a boat?” He sat up and looked outside, glancing over the harbor. “I could go on a ship tomorrow if that’s what I wanted.”

“Things were…different, then,” Angelica said. “The world was nothing like this world, there was no magic.”

“No magic?” Huen frowned. “How…how is that even possible?”

Angelica laughed. “It just was,” she said.

“But who healed people?”

“Doctors,” Angelica said. “But sometimes, people died. Often, in fact. The medical care was poor, and not a lot was known about the human body.”

Huen winced. “Why would anyone want to live in such an awful place?”

Angelica laughed at his innocent ignorance. “Anyway, so, back to the ship. A very wealthy woman and her family boarded, along with her fiancé, who was also wealthy. But she did not love him – she thought of jumping off the ship to kill herself. She was saved by a poor man.”

Huen laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It was,” Angelica said. “And then, they fell in love. The woman told her family that she wouldn’t be going with them once the ship docked and that she wanted to go with the man she’d fallen in love with.”

Huen frowned.

“I know, it sounds strange,” Angelica said dryly. “But the ship was not to land – it crashed, against a huge block of ice in the middle of the ocean.” She paused and cleared her throat, reaching for a glass of water. “The woman stayed with the poor man, she even gave up her chance at being rescued just so she could stay with him?”

“What happened?” Huen closed his eyes, trying to imagine the black, icy sea swirling around him. He shivered. She’s a good storyteller, he thought. I wonder where she comes up with these tales.

“The poor man died, he froze to death in the water,” Angelica said. “The rich woman survived, but she never forgot her first love.”

Huen blinked. “That…was not quite what I was expecting,” he said.

Angelica shrugged. “Sorry to disappoint,” she said. She grinned. “But I see I’ve distracted you, at least.”

“I suppose you have,” Huen said, frowning. Suddenly, the idea of living as he had been seemed worse than ever. He closed his eyes and sighed, wishing that he, too, could sail away on a giant luxurious boat, as big as a castle.

“Are you feeling cheered, friend?” Aerdan asked. “Would you like something else to eat?”

Huen frowned and shook his head. He felt worse than ever – seeing his friend and cousin, Aerdan, so happy with Angelica was almost unbearable. He wasn’t jealous, exactly. It was more of a longing to find happiness and contentment the same way that Aerdan had.

That’s never going to happen to me, Huen thought. And whenever I meet a girl I could actually like, I behave like a fool. Again, Aine’s lovely face popped into his head and he shuddered.

Huen reached for the wine and poured himself a huge glass. He downed it, tilting his head back until tiny rivers of crimson spilled over his chin.

“Huen,” Aerdan said in a warning tone. “What is it, my friend? What is causing you to act like this?”

“Why couldn’t I just get my way,” Huen complained, slurring his words. “Why can’t I just spend the rest of my life, surrounded by books, just like I want? Why do I have to marry some stupid wife?”

Aerdan chuckled. “Friend, you have had too much wine,” he said gently, reaching for Huen’s glass. Huen staggered backward, still clutching the goblet. Before Aerdan could intervene, he threw his head back and chugged the rest of his wine.

“Huen,” Aerdan said. “Come now, to bed with you. You will feel better in the morning.”

“No, I will not,” Huen slurred. “I am going home,” he added, staggering toward the chamber door.

“Aerdan,” Angelica said nervously. “Stop him, I’m really worried!”

“It’s his life,” Aerdan said. “But Huen, I beg you to stay, friend. The night is young, come, we will make merry until you’ve forgotten all of your troubles.”

Huen hiccupped, staggering toward the door. “No,” he mumbled under his breath. “I will not stay.”

As soon as Huen opened the chamber door and began making his drunken way down the stairs, Aerdan’s loud protests sounded like buzzing in his ears. He staggered and groped his way down to the ground floor, almost falling more than once.

Outside the castle, a carnival was taking place. Huen stared at the bright torches of the fire-breathers, debating the idea of grabbing one and setting himself on fire.

No, he thought. That is the coward’s way to die, and I am no coward.

Instead, Huen staggered away from the castle, through the village, and back to the outskirts of town where the show arena blazed brightly in the cool night air. There was a man lying on his back in full armor, obviously passed out. Huen stepped closer as the moon came out from behind a cover of clouds. Huen saw a flash of silver on the ground and he reached down, groping for the man’s sword.

It was surprisingly heavy, but Huen grabbed it firmly with his good hand and trudged on to the arena. I’ll die like a man, he thought. And then mother – and everyone else – won’t be able to speak ill of me, ever again. He gritted his teeth and staggered into the arena.

The arena was much more crowded tonight. Dueling men moved past in blurs of greased skin and ink, dried blood crusting their old wounds and fresh blood gushing from their new ones. Huen swung the sword over his shoulder and let out a cry.

“Who here is the most powerful among you?” Huen yelled. “I challenge you!”

There was a rumble among the men. After a few seconds, a large man stepped out. His neck thicker than his head, and he was covered in victory tattoos, scars, and dried blood. His head was shaved and it glistened in the dim light of the fire.

“I am Phaelenx,” the man roared. “And I will destroy you – if you so desire!”

Huen braced himself, planting both feet on the ground and swinging his sword. His injured wrist was throbbing with pain. As Phaelenx charged toward Huen, Huen’s heart skipped a beat. For the first time, it occurred to him that he might be making a colossal mistake…a mistake that could cost him his life. Like that stupid ship, Huen thought, recalling vague memories of Angelica’s story. I’m going to die!

Phaelenx growled as he approached. Huen gripped his sword even tighter and swung it through the air, aiming for Phaelenx’s neck. But Phaelenx was quicker. He darted to the side, easily avoiding the blow of Huen’s sword.

Swinging the sword so sharply knocked Huen off balance, and he staggered backward, still clutching the heavy weapon in his good hand. His arm ached and he was soaked with sweat, but he clenched his jaw, determined not to give up.

“I will kill you, royal,” Phaelenx growled. He swung his leg through the air in a powerful kick, knocking Huen’s feet out from under him. Huen crashed down to the ground, twisting his ankle and landing painfully on his broken wrist. A crowd of men had surrounded the duo and they were chanting and cheering, obviously hungry for blood.

Go ahead, then, kill me, Huen thought bleakly as he lay on the ground. Phaelenx stood above him, glowering down. He reached down and ripped the sword from Huen’s grasp, then held it with both hands and plunged it down into Huen’s chest.

For a moment, the wound felt like nothing at all. Then a cold, painful sensation spread through Huen’s body and he shivered and jerked. Hot blood began to gush from the wound.

“Finish him!” Someone in the crowd yelled. “Finish this man!”

The crowd jeered and booed, clapping their hands. Huen’s eyelids fluttered and he felt himself slipping away from reality.

Suddenly, the cries and shouts stopped. The onlookers of the crowd fell silent.

“Who is she?” Someone yelled loudly. “Get this girl out of here!”

Girl? The word sounded foreign in Huen’s muddy subconscious. Who, Angelica? Why is she here?

Huen struggled to keep his eyes open. When he saw the slight silhouette of a girl with long hair running towards him, he knew.

It wasn’t Angelica.

It was Aine.

CHAPTER FOUR

Aine

“What are you doing here?” A gruff man holding a war axe thundered at Aine. “You cannot interrupt these shows, peasant!”

“There is no show tonight,” Aine said pleasantly. Her heart was pounding and she was terrified. Seeing Huen on the ground, bleeding and gasping for air, was a horrifying sight. She knew that unless he received medical care – and very quickly – he would likely die.

“What does a peasant like you know?” The man grumbled, stepping closer.

Aine drew herself to her full height and tilted her chin up in the air. “That man is my ward,” she said. “And he has escaped, yet again.” She pointed to his wrist. “I fixed that just the other day.”

The man stared at Aine for what felt like an eternity. Hurry up, she thought, glancing anxiously down at Huen’s bleeding form. Then, to her immense relief, he burst into laughter.

“You must start taking better care of your wards, then,” the man said. “Go on, take him, before the Lions get him.”

Aine shivered at the thought. She bent down at the knee and scooped Huen tenderly in her arms. This time, she could tell, he was much worse off. His skin was clammy and cold, and his fine silk tunic was stained and ruined with the blood flowing from the wound in his chest.

Aine dipped her head in a silence as she struggled to carry Huen over the hill and into her parents’ small home. It took her far longer than she hoped. When she arrived, she set Huen down by the fire, quickly washed her hands in the spring, and got to work packing his wound with herbs and gauze.

Huen didn’t wake the entire time. He slipped in and out of consciousness, mumbling and murmuring. His eyelids twitched and he foamed at the mouth until Aine made a calming potion and poured it down his throat, gently rubbing his throat to make sure that he was swallowing.

Mie watched from her table, where she was sewing.

“You care an awful lot about this man who apparently has a death wish,” she said. “What, are you hoping he’ll awake and decide to make you his bride?”

“No,” Aine said. She shook her head and sighed. “I…I don’t know what it is, but I can’t seem to stop thinking about him.” Now that Huen was back in her care, that was truer than ever before. She wouldn’t have admitted it, but she’d actually found herself thinking of him quite a bit after he’d left.

It didn’t surprise her at all that he was back in front of her hearth with a sword wound to his chest. Aine went over his wounds, searching his body for any hint of disease or infection. He’d managed to break his wrist, yet again, and she set it – this time, using two broad sticks to hold the wrist in place as she wrapped strips of muslin around the wound.

By the time the sun was coming up, Aine was exhausted. She mixed a small sleeping potion for herself from Mie’s spellbook and took a short nap, lying down on the ground right next to Huen. Something about him – even though he wasn’t conscious – comforted her immensely.

In the morning, Aine reluctantly got up and went about her chores. She made gruel and a small loaf of bread for Mie and Thom and swept the house out before sitting down with a pile of sewing. Huen’s face was still bloodless and soaked with sweat, but he looked better than he had the night before. The wound in his chest had finally stopped bleeding, and Aine changed out the bandages, grimacing as she took hunks of blood-soaked gauze from his chest.

Please don’t die, Aine thought, looking down at his handsome face. You are the only exciting thing that has ever happened to me.

Suddenly, Huen’s eyes flew open. His velvety brown eyes locked with Aine’s, and she felt a strange shiver run down her spine. What is this, Aine wondered, her cheeks flushing pink. Why do I feel so strange?

To her immense shock, Huen smiled. Faintly, but it was there.

“You again,” Huen croaked. A look of sharp pain came over his face and he closed his eyes again, letting his head rest on the pillow of straw.

“Yes,” Aine said. She got up and went to her mother’s herb table, mixing a potion of wormwood. She brought it back and handed it to Huen, who drank without a word.

“You’re in terrible shape,” Aine said softly, resisting the urge to caress Huen’s sculpted cheek. “And I think you likely would have died if I hadn’t run into the arena and saved your life.”

Huen’s eyes went wide. “That…that was not a dream?”

Aine laughed humorlessly. “No,” she said softly. “That was not a dream. It really happened, I can promise you,” she said. She rolled her eyes. “My back still aches from carrying you all the way back here.”

Huen nodded and took a deep breath, then gasped. “By the gods, how it hurts,” he moaned. “What happened to me?”

Aine bit her lip. “You were fighting with Phaelenx,” she said softly. “He is the strongest, you know.” She frowned and shook her head. “Good gods, why did you engage with him?”

Huen looked at her crossly. “I do not need a lecture from you,” he said. His voice was still tinged with arrogance, but Aine could detect a note of gratitude in there as well.

“Well, that is too bad,” Aine said quietly. “You must promise me – you won’t go into the arena and antagonize those awful men!”

Huen stared at her. “Why? Why should I promise you anything?”

Aine sighed, glancing quickly over her shoulder. Mie wasn’t paying attention – her head was dipped low and her eyes were narrowing focused on her needlework.

“Because,” Aine said in a low voice. “I think we can help each other.”

Huen stared at her for a long moment before shaking his head. He strained and struggled to sit up, groaning with the effort of it all. Aine pushed him firmly back down on the hearth.

Huen narrowed his eyes and squinted. “What in the name of the gods,” he said. “You should let me go home. I’ll receive better medical care there.”

Aine raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. “Really? You don’t even feel like listening to what I have to say?”

“What could you possibly have to say to me?” Huen groaned in pain as he struggled to sit up once more.

“Stay,” Aine said. She shook her head. “What, are you planning on going out and getting yourself ripped up again? Not on my watch,” she added sternly.

Aine was shocked to see a faint pink flush appear on Huen’s cheeks.

“Thank you,” Huen said. “I mean, for your care. For taking care of me.”

“For saving your life?” Aine countered, resisting the urge to smirk. “That’s pretty big, you know.”

“I know,” Huen said. “I really should be going.”

“Not yet,” Aine replied. She leaned in close and a shiver ran down her back. This is the closest we’ve been while he’s awake, she thought, biting the inside of her mouth. Why am I so attracted to this rude man?

“What?” Huen asked. “What do you want, now?”

Aine sighed. “Look,” she said softy, again glancing over her shoulder to make sure that Mie was occupied. “I know you’re not happy,” she continued quietly. “If you were happy, you wouldn’t be running to the arena every night, trying to get yourself killed during a show.”

Huen frowned. “You do not know me,” he said, his voice laced with arrogance. “What could you possibly know about me?”

Aine rolled her eyes. “You are exhausting,” she said, crossing her arms over her narrow chest. “But I can tell you – it is incredibly obvious, Huen,” she added. “Obviously, I don’t know much about your life. You’re rich, yeah, anyone can see that. But it’s more than that. You have some kind of death wish.”

Huen glared at her.

“Be angry all you want,” Aine said, shrugging. “But I am not happy, either.” She sighed.

Huen raised an eyebrow and smirked. Even though he was covered in bruises and dried blood, he was still incredibly handsome.

“So, this is really about you,” Huen said slyly. “You could’ve just started with that, you know.”

“It’s not,” Aine replied. “It’s about both of us.”

Huen stared at her for a long moment. “You must be kidding,” he said. “Surely, you don’t expect me to marry you just because you saved my life?”

Aine’s jaw dropped. “No,” she said, much more loudly than she intended. She winced. “How can you suggest such a thing?”

“Then I do not understand,” Huen said. “What exactly do you want?”

Aine shook her head and laughed. “I can’t believe you’d think I just want to marry,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s so insulting! You men really are impossible.”

Huen stared at her.

“All I am saying,” Aine continued quietly. “Is that perhaps, since we are both so unhappy, we could come up with a solution to our problems. Sometimes, two minds can figure these things out much easier than one mind, you know,” she said.

Huen sighed.

“I can tell you are not used to talking to women,” Aine continued. “And I know you are unwed – obviously, despite that horrific proposal you just threw in my face – so what is the trouble?” She leaned closer. “Are you…attracted to men? Is that why you’re so unhappy?”

Now it was Huen’s turn to look shocked.

“No,” Huen sputtered after a long moment of silence. He flushed again and shook his head. “No, certainly not,” he said.

Aine giggled. “So, what is it then? Why are you so unhappy?”

Huen sighed. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said. He winced as he lay back down on the hearth.

“Try me,” Aine said. She leaned over Huen and looked at the gaping wound in his chest. “And this needs to be changed,” she added smoothly. Getting to her feet, Aine went outside to rinse her hands in the spring before preparing a change of herbs and gauze.

Huen lay still, his face tense as Aine’s nimble fingers plucked the bloody lump from his wound and gently rinsed it with water.

“By the gods, how it hurts,” Huen said through gritted teeth. “Why does it have to sting so much?”

“Hold your tongue,” Aine said. “I will be finished soon.”

Huen closed his eyes and groaned as Aine finished packing the wound with fresh herbs.

“There,” she said, rubbing her hands together and drying them on her tattered apron. “Better?”

“Not much,” Huen complained. “It still aches.”

“Why don’t you think I would understand?”

Huen sighed. “Do we have to keep talking about this?” He yawned. “I’m exhausted.”

“I’m sure you are,” Aine chirped.

“You are very persistent, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Aine said. “And the sooner you tell me, the sooner I’ll give you a potion for sleep.”

Huen stared at her. “You are something else,” he said slowly. “No one talks to me like this, save for my mother.”

“Are you lonely? Is that it?”

“No,” Huen said. “I have friends, royal cousins, a large family. If anything, I wish for more peace and quiet.” He narrowed his eyes at Aine. “Which I am certainly not getting right now, am I?”

Aine flushed. “I am sorry,” she said. “You must understand – this isn’t a normal for me, either.”

“It is just…well, I am not sure how to say this,” Huen said. He lifted his head and looked down at the large wound in his chest. “But I…I do not care for the Zhekan way. I do not wish to be seen only for my strength.”

Aine giggled. “To be honest, I wouldn’t make that mistake,” she said softly. When Huen glared, she threw him a guilty look. “I am sorry,” she said. “But it’s rather obvious you’re not a champion fighter. Why keep pushing yourself?”

Huen sighed. “I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”

Aine softened. “Well, if you had a choice – what would you do? If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?”

Huen’s brown eyes took on a soft cast in the dim light of the hut. “I wish for knowledge,” he said softly. “I wish to be a learned man. Not just of spellcraft and women’s magic, but all things. How the world works – how the sky sometimes rains and yet is free of clouds.”

Aine blinked. “I wasn’t expecting that,” she said softly. “So, why can’t you become a scholar?”

Huen laughed. “Don’t be foolish,” he said. “I’m expected to marry and start a family of my own. And spend the rest of my life flexing my muscles and catering to my wife’s every whim.”

Aine gasped. “Oh, I know you,” she said quickly. “I remember you!” She flushed, covering her mouth with both hands. “Your thirtieth birthday was talked of all over the kingdom…the peasants gossiped about it for weeks!”

“Yes,” Huen said dully. “I left poor Eris at the altar, and my mother condemned me to manual labor until I find the lucky girl of my choosing.”

Aine narrowed her eyes. “And you wanted to escape that…by letting some thug murder you in the arena?”

Huen shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he said sheepishly.

“I bet,” Aine said archly. “So, we can help each other, then.”

“What? I did not agree to that,” Huen said.

Aine shrugged and flashed Huen a wicked grin. “So? You may as well,” she said tartly. “Because I am not sure how you’re going to find happiness otherwise.”

Huen snorted. “What makes you think you can help me?”

“All I know is that perhaps together, we could think of a solution.” Aine tapped her chin, pretending to ponder.

“Aerdan might know something,” Huen said. “My cousin,” he explained.

Aine gave him an annoyed look. “Yes, Aerdan, the Commander,” she said. “I know of him, as does everyone in Zheka.”

Huen blushed and Aine had to resist a strong urge to reach out and touch his cheek.

“I forget that sometimes, not everyone has the same life as I,” Huen said quietly. “I meant no offense.”

“I know,” Aine said. She shook her head. “I am teasing, that’s all.”

The pair fell silent for a moment and Aine closed her eyes, listening to the snap, hiss, and crackle of the logs upon the fire. She felt a desperate ray of hope beginning to grow inside of her chest, something she almost never allowed herself to feel.

“I will ask Aerdan for his assistance,” Huen said slowly. “Perhaps…perhaps he may help us.”

Aine nodded. “I have always wanted to learn more about Glasule,” she said, keeping her voice low so Mie wouldn’t hear her. “But my parents…well, they are not exactly as interested as I.”

“I do not care what I learn about, as long as it is something more than war,” Huen said passionately.

“So, why don’t we sneak into the royal castle and into the library?” Aine asked, her dark eyes flashing with excitement. “The Commander – I mean, Aerdan, -- can help us,” she said. “Please, Huen!”

Huen nodded. “I will speak to him as soon as you give me the freedom to leave, lady,” he said with a smirk.

Aine flushed. “As soon as you’re well enough,” she said softly.

“Aine!” Mie called. “I need your help over here.”

Aine made Huen an apologetic face before getting to her feet and walking to her mother.

“Yes, Mother?”

Mie sighed. “Aine, you have been neglecting your work in order to care for this man,” she said sternly.

“Mother, he’s badly hurt,” Aine said. She bit her lip and glanced down, trying to appear respectful. “It isn’t as though I could just abandon him to death!”

“That man is a royal cousin,” Mie hissed. “What happens if he dies in your care?”

From across the room, Huen cleared his throat.

“Ma’am,” he said to Mie. “No disrespect meant, but Queen Zornaya herself saw the way Aine attended to my broken wrist. The Queen said the work was very fine, that perhaps the only one who could have done it better was herself.”

Mie raised her eyebrows. “Surely, you speak in jest,” she said. “My Aine?”

Your Aine? Aine thought, looking at her adoptive mother. You’ve never even wanted me, and suddenly, now, you find a reason to be proud of me? She felt sour and bitter, even though she knew she should be grateful.

“I speak in complete sincerity,” Huen said. He coughed. “And ma’am, do trust if I were well enough to stand and bow, I would do so. I thank you very kindly for taking me in.”

Mie gave Aine a suspicious look, almost as if she didn’t believe Huen.

“Well, child, you heard the man,” Mie said, waving her hand in the air. “You’d better get back to his side.”

“What…what about the rest of my work?” Aine glanced down at the fine silk and golden thread in Mie’s lap. It looked out of place – such a fine garment draped over Mie’s stained muslin dress.

Mie gave her a strange look. “I am sure you’ll find the time for it later,” she said. “Correct?”

Aine flushed. She can’t have overheard, she thought as she nodded.

“Yes, Mother,” Aine said softly. “Later.”

As she walked back to Huen and knelt at his side, Aine suddenly had a terrible feeling of dread. What was she doing, talking about sneaking into the castle? That was a serious offense – an offense for which she could be put to death. She knew she should resist her urges to act out.

But whenever Aine looked at Huen’s handsome face, she had the sense that her biggest adventure was yet to come.

CHAPTER FIVE

Huen

Huen stayed with Aine for almost a week as he recovered. After four or five days, the pain was bearable, but Aine was reluctant to let him go back home.

“I worry I will never see you again,” Aine said, in a rare moment of candidness. “Isn’t that strange?”

Huen nodded. “No,” he said. I feel the same, he thought as he looked at Aine’s fair curls falling down her back. It was strange – he’d never had feelings like this before, and they were confusing.

But Huen could tell that his presence was beginning to wear on Mie and Thom. When he felt well enough to begin the long walk to his parents’ grand home, he promised Mie he would repay her.

“Oh, child, there is no need for that,” Mie said. But there was something insincere about her words.

“I will,” Huen promised. “I’ll send word in a few days.”

Over Mie’s shoulder, Huen locked eyes with Aine. They had decided on a plan – Huen would return home, then find Aerdan and ask for assistance. Huen was almost nervous about asking his friend for help. Before Angelica, Aerdan had always been up for a madcap adventure. But now that he had settled down, Huen knew his friend’s views on life were beginning to change.

Huen set out at dawn, walking most of the morning. His wrist had almost completely healed, and there was no longer a need to stuff herbs in his chest wound, but the aches and pains had yet to fade away. For the first time, he realized how stupid and reckless his behavior had been, and he was deeply grateful to Aine for her healing skills.

Instead of going straight to his home, Huen strode across the drawbridge and into the castle. People buzzed and chattered around him, clearly busy with their mid-day tasks. Huen was barely seen as he climbed the stone tower to Aerdan’s chamber and knocked on the door.

“Aerdan? Are you at home?”