I didn’t feel the pain right away. I stared at the floor, a blurry sideways view, my cheek still pressed to the stone, the stench of spilled ale rising up to me. Then I heard the Komizar yell for me to get up.
It was mid-morning, and I had been taking a late breakfast in Sanctum Hall due to last-minute early morning fittings. Calantha and two guards were there with me when we heard sharp footsteps coming down the south corridor. The Komizar stormed in and ordered everyone else out.
I tried to get my bearings, to focus on the tilting room.
“Get up! Now!” he ordered.
I pushed up from the floor, and that’s when the pain hit. My skull throbbed like a giant fist was crushing it. I forced myself to stand and steadied myself against the table. The Komizar was smiling. He stepped forward, gently touched the cheek he had just struck, then hit me again. I braced myself this time and only stumbled, but my neck felt as though it were snapping in two. I faced him, squaring my shoulders, and felt something warm and wet trickle on my cheek.
“Good morning to you too, sher Komizar.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
I knew exactly what he was talking about, but I feigned confusion.
“I told you precisely what to say, and yet you told stories of dead sisters and dragons waking from sleep?”
“They like to hear stories of their kingdom’s namesake. It’s what they wanted to hear,” I answered.
He grabbed my arm and yanked me toward him. His eyes danced with fury. “I don’t care what they want! I care about what they need to hear! I care about my orders to you! And I don’t care if the gods themselves hand delivered their words to you in golden goblets! All your drivel about listening without ears, seeing without eyes doesn’t matter. The guards laughed out every word to me—but not one mention of battles and victory! That is what matters, Princess! That is all that matters.”
“I beg your forgiveness, Komizar. I was carried away in the moment by the kindnesses of the people and their earnest desire for a story. I’ll be sure to tell yours next time.”
He looked at me, his chest still heaving. He reached up and wiped my cheekbone, then rubbed the blood between his fingers.
“You’ll tell Kaden you tripped on the stairs. Say it.”
“I tripped on the stairs.”
“That’s better, my little bird.” He rubbed the blood on his finger across my lower lip, and then bent to kiss me, pushing the salty taste of my own blood onto my tongue.
* * *
Calantha and the guard didn’t speak as they led me back to my room, but before she turned to leave, she paused to eye my face. A short while later, a basin of water with herbs floating on top was delivered to my room by a servant. The girl also brought a slice of soft, fleshy root. “For your face,” she said beneath lowered lashes and hurried away before I could ask who sent it, but I could guess it was Calantha. This offense had hit a little too close to home.
I dipped a soft cloth in the water and dabbed it to my cheek to clean the wound. I winced at the sting. I had no mirror, but I could feel the bruise and the burning scrape from hitting the floor. I closed my eyes and held the soaked fabric to my skin. It was worth it. Every word I spoke was worth it. I couldn’t leave them without some kind of knowing of their own. I saw it in their faces, weighing my words and what they might mean. I had pushed as far as I dared, for not everyone in the square had come to hear what I had to say. Some were there to report it. I had seen the Sanctum guards and the quarterlords not only scrutinizing me, but also watching those who had gathered to listen.
I picked up the piece of root the girl had brought and sniffed it. Thannis. Was there nothing this lowly weed couldn’t do? I held it to the wound and felt it soothe the throb.
Across the room, my gaze landed on the wedding dress laid across Kaden’s trunk. It had been finished with little time to spare. Hunter’s Moon was tomorrow. The wedding was to begin at twilight as the moon rose over the foothills. There would be no processions, no flowers, no priests, no parties, none of the fanfare that accompanied a wedding in Morrighan. Vendan wedding traditions were simple, and witnesses were the greatest requirement. It would take place on the eastern wall walk overlooking Hawk’s Pavilion. A volunteer chosen by the Komizar would tie our wrists together with a red ribbon. When we raised our tied hands before them displaying our union, the witnesses would call back a blessing—bound by earth, bound by the heavens—and that would be it. The feast cake of dried fruits that would follow was the greatest luxury, but the simplicity didn’t make the anticipation any less feverish. The Hunter’s Moon and my extravagant red clan dress were embellishments that added to the fervor. I walked over and touched the gown, so carefully pieced together, a dress of many hands and many households. A dress of welcoming, not of good-byes. A dress of staying, not leaving.
Was this to be my end? Forever a hostage of one kingdom and despised by the others? I wondered if Vendan riders were already in Morrighan spreading the news of my ultimate betrayal to my countrymen. I pictured those who would curse me—the cabinet, the Royal Guard, my mother and father. I closed my eyes trying to hold back tears. But certainly not my own brothers or Pauline. A sob jumped to my throat.
This wasn’t the story I had written for myself. Not the story of Terravin and salty breezes and love. I crushed the fabric in my fist and held it to my face, staining the hem with the deeper red of my own blood. With Pauline’s image still looming in my thoughts, a more horrible worry overtook me—no one in Morrighan would be considering my traitorous act for long because they would either be on this side of hell scrabbling for roaches and rats to fill their bellies or they would be dead.
The Komizar’s success seemed assured—unless I could somehow get word to them. Kaden’s promise to protect Berdi, Gwyneth, and Pauline was not enough. All of Terravin wasn’t enough. There were so many more in Morrighan, and none of them deserved this end. The Komizar had mentioned one last winter. That must mean they wouldn’t march until after that? When? Spring? Summer? How much time did Morrighan have? Not much more than I did.
I jumped when I heard a knock at my door. I wanted no more surprises, and cautiously cracked it open.
It was Calantha. “I have another towel for you.” She moved aside. “And I brought this.”
Rafe stepped into view.
Blood pooled cold at my feet. Was this a trap?
“I may have only one eye,” Calantha said, “but I perceive far more with one than most do with two. I’ve dismissed the guards at the end of the hall to see to another matter, and the Council is still in session. You have fifteen minutes before the guards return to their post. No more. I’ll be back before then.” She set the towel she had brought down on my bed and left.
Rafe’s eyes immediately went to my cheek, and I saw icy rage pass through them.
“It wasn’t Kaden. He didn’t touch me. I’m all right,” I pleaded. “We only have a few minutes.” I didn’t want to waste it on anger and accusations. Rafe and I hadn’t been alone with so much as a private word in days.
He swallowed his anger as if he could read my thoughts. He started to speak, but I stopped him. “Kiss me,” I said. “Before you say anything else, just kiss me and hold me and tell me it was worth it, no matter what happens.”
He brushed the hair from my face. “I promised you I’d get us out of this, and I will. We’re going to have a long life together, Lia.” His arms slid around me, pulling me to him as if nothing could ever come between us again, and then his mouth came down on mine, gentle, hungry, the sweetest taste I had ever imagined, all my dreams held tight and alive again in one short kiss.
We reluctantly stepped apart, because time was so short. Rafe spoke quickly. “Wear your riding clothes in the morning. Say your remembrances from Blackstone Terrace. Do you know where it is?”
I nodded. Blackstone Terrace was one of many that overlooked the square, but it was rarely used because access to it was more complicated.
“Good,” he said. “Say them just after first bell. By then, the Council will be thick in their sessions. Stick to your routine so guards who watch from the square aren’t alerted. When you leave, take the outside staircase down to the second level and go through the portal there. It’s a deserted path that only a few servants use. I’ll be waiting there for you with Jeb.”
“But how—”
“Do you swim, Lia?”
“Swim? You mean the river?”
“Don’t worry. We have a raft. You won’t need to swim.”
“But the river—”
He explained to me why it was the only way, that the bridge was impossible to raise without a small army, and the lower river was too far away. “Tavish has it worked out. I trust him.”
“I can swim,” I said, trying to calm my heart. A raft. Tomorrow morning. I didn’t care if it was the craziest plan in the world. We’d be leaving before I had to marry the Komizar. He asked if there was anything I needed to take. He’d give it to Jeb now to secure on the raft, because there wouldn’t be time tomorrow. I grabbed my saddlebag and stuffed a few things in it, including the Ancients’ books. I grabbed his arm. “But, Rafe, if things don’t go as planned, if you have to leave without me, promise me you will.”
I could tell he was about to protest but then he paused, chewing his lip. “I will,” he said, “if you promise to do the same.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
He frowned. “And I used to be so good at it. You’re my downfall. But you still have to promise me.”
I’d never leave without him. Without me as leverage, he’d be going home to Dalbreck in pieces. He could probably already see the lie on my tongue. “I will,” I answered.
He sighed, and his lips grazed mine again, whispering against them. “I suppose we’ll both have to get out, then.”
“I suppose we will,” I whispered back.
My body molded to his, and the seconds ticked by. All I wanted was more time with him. His lips traveled to my neck. “It was worth it, Lia,” he said. “Every mile, every day. I’d do it all again. I’d chase you across three continents if that’s what it took to be with you.”
I heard a small sigh, and he pulled away. “There may be one snag in our plan, though,” he said. “Griz.”
“Griz? He seems like the least of our worries. He already covered for us once.”
A crease deepened between his brows as if Griz made his head ache. “He knows who I am, and it seems he’s well acquainted with one of my men too. When Griz spotted him, he figured something was in the works, and he made it clear he doesn’t want you to leave. He’s one of the clanspeople and expects you to stay here. My soldier explained he was only here to get me out, and Griz seemed to buy it, but he’s keeping a close watch on us.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Let me understand this correctly. He doesn’t care that Dalbreck soldiers are on this side of the river or about conspiracies and escape plans, just so long as he gets to keep me?”
“That’s right. We plan on taking him out silently in his quarters if we have to, but as you may have noticed, he’s a big brute—it might not be easy.”
My blood simmered. Keep me. Like a boy with a frog in his pocket. “No,” I said. “I’ll take care of Griz—”
“Lia, he’s too—”
“I’m trusting you, Rafe. You need to trust me on this. I will handle Griz.”
He opened his mouth to argue.
“Rafe,” I said firmly.
He sighed and nodded grudgingly. “Tonight in Sanctum Hall, be sure to talk about future plans. What will happen a week from now and a month from now. Ask about the weather, anything so it looks like you expect to be here. It’s not just the Komizar who misses nothing. The Rahtan, the chievdars, and especially Griz note every word.”
There was a light tap at the door. Our time was up.
“Your shoulder,” I said. “How is it healing?”
“Just a nick. The cook gave me a foul poultice to treat it.” He bent down and lightly kissed the cut on my cheekbone. “Look at us,” he said. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” But then one kiss led to more, as if he’d forgotten he had to go.
“No one would recognize us,” I answered. “We’re hardly a proper prince and princess anymore.”
He laughed mid-kiss and leaned back to look at me. “You were never a proper princess.” His hands cradled my face, and his smile faded. “But you’re everything I want. Remember that. I love you, Lia. Not a title. And not because a piece of paper says I should. Because I do.”
There was no more time for words or kisses. He grabbed my saddlebag and hurried to the door.
“Wait!” I said. “I have something else to give you.” I went to the chest and took out a small sealed flask of clear liquid. “It’s a little something I lifted in my travels,” I said. “It might buy us more time.” I told him exactly what to do with it.
He grinned. “Not a proper princess at all.” He carefully tucked the flask into my saddlebag and left.