The rustling wind against the tree branches and the tricklingwater over the smooth stones soothe her soul. The woods are her sanctuary of contentment, where she feels most comfortable and whole.
As she shuts her eyes and inhales the scent of fallen rain clinging to the leaves, she remembers her childhood days with her father sitting beside her on the muddy earth, pointing out every creature. He could imitate any sound, from the giant bear to the tiniest swallow. Her mum and Bjorn spent half the day reading while Aura happily drew on the ground beside them. Even Thora found some serenity in the woods that did not involve bodily harm.
Her thoughts remind her of a happier, simpler time in her life.
Once, she shared this cherished place in her heart with Isabel. They had barely settled upon a boulder when her so-called friend threw a knife at a chipmunk.
Thankfully, Aura pushed her, causing her to miss.
Yet, that act of boredom, followed by her fury at missing the mark, never sat well with her.
Why do I always disregard the signs?Pops may have had a point about my sad ‘liaisons.’
As more time passes, her creature remains elusive.
Her hands clutch the leather-bound notebook she found propped on the pillows of her bed two days after her nameday. Engraved on the cover of the meticulously smooth tan hide is the nautilus shell of Treland, with her name in runes beneath.
A note on the front page, in barely legible scratches, reads, "Princess, you deserve happiness."
It was such a considerate gift that it left her a blubbering mess. However, at the center of the first page is an intricate snowflake that is cold to the touch. It does not permeate the page, nor does it appear drawn.
Yet another hidden compartment of the mysterious Iss Drengr.
After not sleeping well the previous week, with the weight of the realms pressing down on her shoulders, her body sways, and she inadvertently leans against Calder’s side.
He wraps an arm around her lower back, and she can hear himinhale the scent of her curls. His side muscles relax, which, for the Iss Drengr, is the most significant gesture of calm he can demonstrate.
“Calder?” She whispers. “Do you have someone special back in Skalor?”
“Gunni, my Second-in-Command, is my closest friend and the only person I would consider ‘special.’ There is no one I consider anintimatecompanion.”
She muses on his answer. Is this lonely life intentional? Is it because of what happened to his ex-wife? When is it appropriate to ask about her?
Aura,she chides herself.Your connection to this man is merely an acquaintance at best. He is a Drengr, twice your age, a member of your father’s Inner Circle, and one of his closest companions! Any association is highly inappropriate.
“What about you, Princess? Aside from the Kilton girl, did you have any other intimate companions?” His breath tickles the shell of her ear.
“Define ‘intimate companion.’ If you mean passive bedfellows, I occasionally had Kjarton, although he always wanted more.”
A lot more.
To the extent that even her parents mentioned his name as a potential husband. “There were other men and women who don’t deserve to be named, especially since I read further into the situations than I should have.”
“Hmm,” he grumbles. “If you want more from your bedfellows, why reject the blacksmith boy?”
She opens her mouth to reply, only to snap it shut quickly.
If she is sincere with herself, it is the darkness in a soul that draws her in like a moth to a flame. Her pursuit of Isabel was an attempt to chase the illusion of connection, which ultimately consumed her.
Since the Trial, she has been unable to cease berating her decisions and desires.
Father’s words hit home that evening because finding someone who will truly love me is not in my future.
“I cannot explain what I seek in another person.” Her mouth driesas she tries to articulate this to the Iss Drengr. “But I know the emotions I want to experience with them.”
Calder tightens his arm around her waist. He lifts her off the log, evoking a gasp as he settles her onto his lap.
Oh, my gods!
