Freddy shoved his free hand through his hair, flinching as the tangles pulled against his scalp. “I’m not deflecting, I’m defending. I can see it on your face now—it’s the same expression that Hadrian wears when he tries to talk me out of anything having to do with Lizzie.”
“So it’s Lizzie, then?”
He said nothing, unable to speak past the lump in his throat that stubbornly refused to go away.
Shea’s next words were soft. “Do you know what I think?”
A bark of humorless laughter escaped him. “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“I will, but only once.” Shea paused as if giving him time to protest before continuing. “I think that loyalty—be it to a person, a country, an ideal—is something to admire. I think that we all have people we believe to be worth fighting for, and loved ones who are worth fighting to protect. Lizzie is one of those people for you, yes?”
Freddy swallowed thickly. “Yes.”
“Having only a cursory knowledge of the situation, I can’t speak for anything other than what I have been told and seen. Lizzie is a childhood friend, someone you care about deeply. Your love for her goes deeper than mere attraction, founded as it is in friendship first and cultivated over your formative years. You see in her someone worth pursuing, even through the muck and mire of hurt feelings and mixed signals because you believe that the person she is at her core is not the persona she presents to the public—which is that of a cold, untouchable, rather heartless young woman.”
Tears, unfamiliar and unwelcome, clouded his vision. Freddy blinked quickly, trying to clear them before they could fall.
“As I said, loyalty is a quality I admire; I understand the need to fight for those we love. I also know that, despite your tendency to use humor to diffuse tense situations, you are not reckless in your decisions. If this is the path you choose to pursue, I will follow after you as a brother-in-arms. But you should also know, Fred, that I will not for one second hesitate to pull you out of the line of fire. You might be willing to fight for Lizzie, but I am ready to fight foryou.”
“I…that’s…” Freddy’s voice broke from the weight of emotion.
“Like I said, I’ll only say it once, and I’ve reached my quota for inspirational words for the day. Just know I’m here for you.” Thefirm pressure of Shea’s hand on his shoulder accompanied the words.
Freddy nodded. Shea dropped his hand after one final, reassuring squeeze, and they continued walking in silence.
Shea is right. Lizzieisworth fighting for. Even if she stays cold and aloof for the rest of her life, she’s still important to me. I just hope that somehow, someday, she understands just how much she is loved. And even if it all ends terribly and she tells me to leave forever, I at least know I won’t be alone.
They traveled on a narrow road that kept course with the river, and by the time the shadows began to lengthen they had managed to put nearly five miles under their shoes. An orchard of cherry trees in full bloom appeared on their left, with the soft pink flowers on the trees matching the streaks of color in the sunset sky. Their sweet, delicate scent carried on the breeze, combined with the fresh, clean scent of recent rain.
Freddy breathed deeply, breaking the silence for the first time in hours. “Do you think cherry trees will grow in Kysta? I wouldn’t mind being surrounded by this smell every spring.”
Shea chuckled. “If someone could figure out how to bottle it up, he’d be a rich man.”
“I’m fairly certain someone has. It’s called perfume. Though, I have to admit, it never smells quite as good as the real thing.”
“Really?” Shea cocked his head thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s not the kind of information one acquires on the field of battle.”
A row of trees was planted close enough to the road that some of the branches extended over. Freddy reached his hand up to run his fingers over the soft petals. “It’s acquired on the floor of a ballroom, which sometimes feels a whole lot like a battlefield.The weapons are words and whatever obscure and ridiculous language those young ladies are doing with their fans, and the casualties are my sanity and patience. How in Eukarya they expect a man to be able to interpret the different way they hold those things is beyond me, but inevitably I end up offending some young woman because she was holding her fan in her left hand rather than her right, and I asked her to dance. Or she was waving it beside her ear, and I didn’t. How am I supposed to know? She’s just using a fan; I assume she is overheated.”
Shea’s laugh rang out through the trees. “On second thought, maybe you should avoid planting cherry trees. They seem to bring up some traumatic memories.”
“What can I say? The ballroom can be a frightening place.” A flash of red tucked away between the trees caught his eye. “Look! It seems the orchard is home to more than just my bad memories. Do you think they’ll spare a meal for a couple of poor, wandering artists?”
“You’re the only artist here. I amnotsinging for my supper.”
They turned off the road and started walking between the sweet-scented trees. A small red house with a thatched roof and blue and red shutters grew larger as they approached. The window panes were a patchwork of blue, red, and yellow glass, and a well-tended garden bloomed with every color of flower imaginable, spilling out from the right side of the house and appearing to wrap around behind. A figure in a dark green dress and wide-brimmed hat knelt on the ground in front of one of the blooming bushes with a pile of weeds beside her.
“Good evening!” Freddy called out cheerfully, making their presence known.
The figure rose and turned, revealing a round, wrinkled face with a kind smile. The front of her hat was painted with flowers to match the garden behind her, and the wide pockets of her brown apron were also filled with blooms.
“Well, this is certainly a pleasant surprise!” Her voice was low and melodic. “What brings two such fine young men to my door?”
The top of her hat would have barely reached the bottom of Freddy’s chest, and she had to tilt her head back to look up at them as they approached. Despite her miniature stature and gray hair, she buzzed with a spry energy, reminding Freddy of the tiny hummingbirds that Lizzie would drag him into the garden to watch for hours when they were young.
Freddy bowed chivalrously. “I’m Malakai, and this is Shea. We were on our way to Ackens this morning, but the river took us a bit further than our destination.”
She laughed. “I would certainly say so. My name is Chrysanthe, but nearly everyone calls me Chrys. Come in and join me for a cup of tea. My home and my garden are always open to travelers.”
