Norah stared at her. “Um… Why?”
Freya tucked the scrap beneath the mattress again. “My hope is that when the healing is closer, we’ll know because the words will make sense.” She clasped her hands and frowned. “It may be a silly thing. But… it’s the only hope I have left.”
Norah studied her for a long moment. She looked so much like her brother, but in a lovely, graceful way. She too was tall, and she shared his warm brown eyes and his straight nose. Her skin was the same shade of olive, even if her hair was significantly darker.
“My greatest fear,” she said softly, “is that one day we’ll wake up and find him trapped inside himself, with no way to understand or be understood.”
Norah recalled their day together with some trepidation. It had been so terribly vexatious. Not becauseof Phillip. He had been all consideration and charm… as far as he could be. But because of her.
For years now, Norah had dreamed of journeying to her ancestors’ native land–the land up north where her father’s forefathers had come from–before he was gifted healing by the merpeople in return for a good deed given. Her mother’s family was from the same country, though they had come to the island when her mother was young, and Norah knew she still had family there somewhere. A few had even come to visit when she was very small.
If she agreed to try saving the prince, she might be giving up all those hopes and dreams forever. As Nanny liked to point out, if Norah left the ocean’s vicinity, she would lose her healing power. It was probably why her parents had felt comfortable betrothing her to a prince on the mainland. He was close enough to the water that her healing powers would remain.
If she left, though…
If she left the ocean, every part of her family legacy would be erased. But in place of her lost abilities, she would have her mother’s family, Norah reminded herself. People who looked like her. Even better, the pirates would have a much harder time tracking her down. And if they did, she would have nothing to give them. Maybe they would leave her alone forever.
Traveling north hadn’t always been her desire. When she was still quite young, Norah had dreamed of returning to her old island to find those who had been dear to her as a child. But, aside from Nanny never allowing her to evenspeakof such until after she was wed, Norah also knew that most of the survivors had fled. The last news she’d gotten was that there was only a very small contingent of the island’s former inhabitants left. And they had finally begun to rebuild their city from the ground up. They had even found a governor to replace the leader her father had been. The last thing they wanted, she was sure, was for theirunmarried princess to return and upset all they had succeeded in building on their own.
Then again, all that aside, Nanny was still missing, and there was no way Norah could leave her.
There was also now the silent, suffering prince.
And as much as Norah wished she could ignore the natural healer within her, it galled her to think of leaving him alone and without hope. So she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I… I’ll try,” she said before she could think about it anymore. If she did, she might break her own heart.
She also might lose what little hope she had left.
Chapter 7
This Girl
Norah slept better that night, though whether it was due to not being attacked by pirates or the cook having slipped some sleeping herbs into her bedtime tea, she couldn’t tell. Either way, she woke up at a more acceptable hour the next morning and made her way to the place where she and Lady Freya had breakfasted the morning before.
A covered plate and tea had been set out on the table, but it was only set for one, and Lady Freya wasn’t there. Norah did, however, notice the prince just below the balcony. Today, however, he stood before a canvas and paints, where he was busy at work.
Her interest piqued, Norah watched him for a long moment. She couldn’t tell what he was painting, but as there were no others around to offend, Norah did what she knew her mother would have deemed improper, snatching the toast and a piece of fruit off the covered plate and making her way down the spiral staircase.
The morning light was still golden and cool, and Norah shivered as she came to stand behind him. But when she realized what he was painting, she nearly dropped her food.
The work was still young, and many of its features weren’t yet filled in, but Norah knew immediately what he had begun.
It was her own face that looked back at her.
Well, not really back at her. In the picture, she was smiling down at a small white rabbit she and Phillip had seen in the garden the day before. But even this wasn’t simply a reflection of their first walk. This was something more.
Somehow, despite only knowing her for a day, Prince Phillip had captured Norah as she saw herself. Or rather, how shewantedto see herself.
Rather than the dark, nondescript colors that Nanny had always made her wear, in the painting, Norah was wearing a bright green dress. Her red curls were wild and untamed, and her nose had far too many freckles to be considered appropriate for a royal.
“I remember this girl,” she whispered, a lump suddenly rising in her throat.
Phillip turned and raised his eyebrows at her. And when he didn’t look away, she sighed and gave him a sad smile. “She died ten years ago with her family.” She looked back at the painting and swallowed again. “She had to.”
The prince studied her a moment longer, his deep brown eyes probing hers. When he turned back to the painting, though, Norah was the one studying him, and she was hit with a sudden conviction.
She was right when she said that this version of her–the one in the painting–had died with her family. She wondered how much of that girl he remembered, as they had met a few times prior to their betrothal.
And it made her wonder. If she could paint him the way he was painting her, what version of Phillip would she put on the canvas? Had he talked a lot? Or had he been quiet before the illness struck him? How many extra years had he aged simply bysurviving?
