A mere peptalk.
In the past, my arrogance had been my demise.
Today, I squared my shoulders back, put one foot in front of the other, and set my sight on the palace…An ordinary laugh that was nothing special wafted from the center of the dancing circle, halting my steps.
Nah, it can’t be.
I slid my foot out, ready to continue but the laughter bubbled again. This time it sent a spear right through my heart, and I pivoted quickly without it ever registering in my brain that I started jogging back down the hill. My ears were so attuned to it, as if an invisible string was reeling me in, and I didn’t stop until I was standing in the back of the sea of dancers, still unable to get eyes onher.
What does she look like?
Will she even remember me?
I had no clue what I’d say, but I was standing on my toes, stretching my neck tall, yearning for a glimpse as I wove through the tightly packed crowd. My breath rushed in fast and heaved out faster as everything was unfolding like a fairytale. I finally made it to the front row and steeled my gaze forward, prepared to hold my breath, but it came easy. Looking at her was easier than anything I’d done in my life.
She was certainly regal, her beauty still evident despite the years, and survival of a heartbreak that would kill many. With perfect posture, she was tall, almost as tall as me. Her eyes shimmered sea green and were framed by wispy strands of silver hair which had fallen from her full crown-wrapped bun. Her eyes caught mine, and for a moment I thought they would stayfrozen together, but she quickly passed over me. She turned to the child by her side, asking about the child’s schooling. I closed my eyes, and let her voice wrap about me, and I was sinking into a pile of feather pillows, already warmed.
“Your Majesty.” I hadn’t planned on speaking out, but that invisible string was pulling so tight, and I couldn’t risk it breaking another time.
Her eyes swept back to me. “How do you do?”
My lips were putty, so dry and hard to mold into words. I ran my tongue over them, hydrating them. “My father has sent something for you.” I pulled the wrinkled map out of my satchel, still amazed it even looked like a map after everything it had been through. With trembling fingers, I held it out for her to see.
Her gaze dropped, and so did her expression. All color drained from her face before her eyes sprang wide back to me, panic etched in all the features of her face. “Where did you get this?”
“My father,” I repeated. “You sent it to him.”
“I don’t believe it.” Her hand slipped over the map as she whisked it away from me, and gently pressed it to her heart. Her eyes glistened back. “Your father?”
I nodded as tears jabbed at the back of my eyes, but I held onto them and quietly bowed my head. The crowd hushed, everyone fanning around, watching us. It was as if she was reminded we weren’t alone because she passed her gaze to the side, and then curtly smiled at me. “What is your name, sir?”
“Jasper Night.”
“Night is an interesting surname. Where abouts is your father from?”
“It’s not my father’s surname. I was told I was given the name because I showed up in the orphanage in the middle of the night, in a bundle, with a note that said, my name was only Jasper. The aids started calling me Jasper of the Night, and eventually it became Jasper Night.”
Her free hand lifted to shield her other hand still holding her heart and her bottom lip rolled under her top where she pitched it tightly, before forcing a tight smile. Again, her eyes flew to the crowd around us, and she whispered, “Can we talk somewhere else?”
“Of course.” Fear ripped through my body. Now, afraid she was embarrassed by me, standing here in my rags, I started to wish I had cleaned up first. However, I didn’t have anything to clean up into. She more than likely wanted to tell me to leave her alone while also not wanting to make a scene. “This is not my village. I have nowhere to offer, as I’m only passing through, but we can walk?”
“Thank you all for sharing your afternoon with me.” She stuck her hand out to wave to her friends, politely calling out, “It’s getting late, and I’m going to visit with my guest.”
Most of the crowd had already lost interest in her since she had stopped paying attention, and the guards that had been standing behind her automatically moved to follow us. Her eyes caught them both, and without having to request a change of pace, they instinctively understood to hang back more than a few steps, and we all moved together down the cobblestone street toward the palace.
Her steps were light and graceful, and the farther we moved away from the crowd, her expression shifted to one of warmer inflections. “My heart is pounding too fast,” she started once we were out of hearing range. “I’m going to cut to the chase. I know who you are. You look just like my father.” She tried to stifle her cries by pressing her petite palm over her mouth, but it didn’t conceal her quivering jaw. “How are you?”
Stunned, I didn’t have words. I had assumed she’d be full of questions, wondering how I found her or what I wanted from her. I hadn’t thought for a moment the first one would be herasking aboutme. So many nights I’d laid awake, dreaming of this moment. I always assumed my mother never cared how I was.
I didn’t dare tell her who I really turned out to be— a thief.
Even though I’d just met her, I wasn’t ready to see shame in her eyes.
She would turn me away, and I craved another moment with her, enough to imprint a seed of something I could carry with me. “I’m well.” It came out sounding more like a question, and the widening of her eyes told me she didn’t really believe it.
“And your childhood?” Her voice was tiny. “Was it happy?”
An itch sprang up behind my ear, and I scratched it, taking the time to reply. I’d never been a liar, and I just couldn’t go down that road again after everything with Evie.
