“Why tell me this?”
“Because, if I am to die tonight, I want someone to know that I didn't want to develop feelings for Caranxa. I wasn't trying to take her from you, well maybe in the beginning because I could only focus on Anara and what I must do to protect her. But now … my father is the King of the lands we are going to and it’s his command we must follow. I want someone to know these were never truly my decisions to make. And my father, under no circumstances, can know that Carnaxa loves another. He will kill her.”
I don't know why I need to tell him this truth, but I do. Maybe it's so we understand each other. “She's never lain with anyone, not even with me. And I know exactly what your kingdom is like.” I shake my head, water scattering from my hair. “I wasborn there. My mother was a slave for one of yourKiTors. I don't know which. My father was a builder.”
He stops, and turns to look at me. “That's unexpected. I assumed the two of you ... But I was told that you washed up on the shores of Antalis. How does one find themselves on the shores of Antalis? Shaston is landlocked, the kingdom has no direct route to the sea.”
I just shrug my shoulders. “I don't know. I remember my father and mother arguing; he attacked me with some of his friends, and the next thing I remember, I washed up on the shores of Antalis, Carnaxa staring down at me.”
He looks away and nods his head as if he understands why we keep our secrets. No one from the Kingdom of Shaston would want to tell anyone from the Kingdom of Antalis that they are from the northernmost kingdom, even if Antalians are a peaceful people. I would never have had the opportunities given to me if they had known where I was born. I don't remember that night, but what child wants to remember their father trying to kill them?
He walks quickly to our right and hunches down. Gesturing at me to come close and stay silent. Quietly pushing the leaves from in front of my sight, I can see her. Three cowards surround her. Her dress, the beautiful yellow, is now covered in mud and dirt. She's bleeding from her wrists that are tied above her and I see a gash on her bicep. She's squirming as one of the men straddles her and punches her. My hand immediately grabs my sword and I lunge forward, but Ereon's hand catches me. He shakes his head no and pulls me backwards.
“We have to be smart, Captain. We are outnumbered and they could just as easily slit her throat before we can get to her.”
“So your plan is just to let them have their way with her while we wait for the right opportunity? I'm going now!” I push past him as he grabs me by the shirt before throwing me to the side.I can't imagine a world where her laughter is never heard again. Even if I can't have her again, I can't live without her.
“Thylas! I promise we are going to get her. But don't make this a fight between us, we have to be united for her.”
I notice then, the look in his eyes. He's scared. Just like I am. And he's right. We have to do this right or they'll kill her. I pace around in a circle before finally asking the only question that matters right now. It's the question that will change everything. I need to know if he is really going to help keep her safe- or if he just wants the Kingdom of Antalis. But the way he speaks of her, I think I hear the desires of a twin drop.
“Do you love her?” He shouldn't, not really. He's had few interactions with her, but I know what I see and hear from him.
He looks at me before sighing and grabbing his swords from their place on his back. He steps toward me. “Honestly, Captain, I love them both. I can't help but love her, just like I can't help but love Anara. Now ... let's go get her.”
thirty-two
EREON
The moment Ryul told me that three men had not shown up for the head count I knew something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones. I should have made sure she left the glen, but I didn't. I looked toward Carnaxa’s captain as he sat around the fire but she was nowhere to be seen. I told Ryul to keep quiet. I didn't need any more of the soldiers getting any ideas. The only person around who I could trust was him, Thylas. So I threw my pride aside and here we are. I'm telling him too muchinformation but he is also revealing more than I expected. How would everyone feel if they knew where he was born? Would it matter? Maybe ... maybe not.
We stand here watching, just watching. After they punched her and she passed out they haven't made an attempt to assault her, yet. They will, I have no doubt. What are they waiting for? I don't know. The rain has lightened for now, but with the rumbling in the distance, it will be back with a force. Maybe they are waiting on that, to cover the sounds of the screams they hope she'll make. She won't because they'll be dead if we do this right, before they even realize we are here. We are slightly outnumbered. Thylas wants to blow our cover now; he needs to learn to separate his feelings from fighting. Sometimes they are helpful, but mostly feelings just get in the way. This is one of those moments where they are clouding his judgement, his logic.
We will wait a bit longer, we need the shadows that night will provide. We are as ready as we can be. I brought Thylas a Shastonian hood, complete with a mouth covering. They are black and we will blend in perfectly with the shadows. I just hope he is as stealthy as he is hot-headed.
I sit watching the three vagabonds eat their apples, smiling every so often behind them at Carnaxa and I gnash my teeth. It's interesting how, only moons ago, I was sent to Antalis with a clear mission. My father explained it to me in detail and then used Anara to ensure I understood his expectations. I sit, waiting for the darkness to envelop us, and remember the words my father spoke to me that night.
One Lunar Year Ago
I could lay here forever, just like this. Her hair, smelling of jasmine, tickles my nose. When Father brought her to me manyyears ago, I didn't know what to do with this little demon, or as she likes me to call her, myach myomi. She says it sounds nicer coming from her peoples’ ancient language. The nickname fits her well.
My father wanted me to use and abuse her, in all the ways he has done to so many others, but I couldn’t. As soon as I saw her, I loved her. Something pulled in my heart, a small, golden current rippled outward to her, something so small I almost missed it. She didn't love me though. I would offer her food and she would throw it in my face. At one point, I offered to help her take a bath because she was in the chains only my father had a key for, she said she would rather I throw her outside to burn in the heat. It took a long time for her to trust me, but I think she always saw the real me, the me I was forced to hide. The me I wanted to be, not the me my father formed and forced.
We found love in this desolate and cruel kingdom. If my father found out that the reason I asked for her key was to provide her relief instead of, “finding more useful things for her hands to do,” he would be furious. He's always furious, I'm used to that. His fury is scarred across my skin, leaving my soul in shambles.
He taught me how to take pain like a man. He would chain me to the wall and beat me with anything in reach until he was satisfied with his cruelty. He would burn my sides with iron pokers, just enough to leave dots along my skin, forming cruel constellations. He beat me when I cried because I wanted a mother, a caretaker, until I could no longer stand. I was too young when she passed to remember her and in my early years, when I would dare to ask him about her, he would say she was weak like every other woman, and would punish me just for asking.
Anara now runs her hand along those faint scars in her sleep, the ones along my ribs. She doesn't know that she is the one whosaved me. Before the night she came into my life, I wanted to end it. I wanted to die. I wanted the torture to stop. I wanted to escape.
One look at her and I knew, if I killed myself, I would be leaving Anara to his rage, just like my mother left me. He hasn't concerned himself with Anara’s whereabouts for some time now, proud to hear from the guards outside my door that they hear “screams” coming from my bedroom every night she visits. He has a full harem of women he keeps, he wants to believe I'm as cruel as he is. She screams as if in pain and we throw things to play the game, and then later I have her scream my name in pleasure. They think she's faking it, but they don't realize which part is the lie.
“What time is it?” her soft voice filled with sleep jars me from my thoughts.
“Not the time for you to leave this bed.” I kiss her forehead as she rolls over to look up at me. Shadows dance across the room from the flickering light still burning in the hearth. I pull the covers around her shoulders, keeping her warm since she claims I'm always cold to the touch. Our days are hot enough to blister skin, our nights cold enough to freeze off toes.
We know our time is limited. Any day now, my father will demand I marry my betrothed, the daughter of King Clennom, the only heir to the Antalian throne. I've known I was betrothed for years; Father took advantage of Antalis’ weakened political state when their former queen passed. I recently heard from my father at the last meeting that the Princess celebrated her twentieth sun cycle. It was agreed upon when she was sixteen and I was twenty-one that we would wed on what her people call the “strawberry moon” of her twenty-first sun cycle.
“What's the stress line for?” She runs her finger across the crease on my forehead.
