Page 11

Chapter Eleven

I liked travelling. I liked the easy banter between my friends, liked the rhythm they all fell into when we stopped to make camp for the night, naturally assuming rolls without anyone having to delegate them. Tan and Mae arranging tents, Goras seeing to the horses, Kelvhan rummaging through saddle bags and preparing a meal.

‘Can I help?’ I asked as I knelt next to where Elias was arranging a fire.

‘You could find some more wood. We’ll burn through this in an hour,’ he said as he leaned sticks of kindling into a tower, before taking a few twigs between his thumb and forefinger. In a blink, it sparked into fire, a burst of hungry flames licking at the evening gloom. He fed the burning twigs into the stack of wood, blowing on it until those flames grew, catching and stretching higher, the light flickering across his face, catching in his amber eyes. He flicked his gaze to me, smiling a little impishly when he caught me watching him. ‘Or we can go look together.’

‘Alright,’ I said, rising when he did and trailing after him away from the fire, into the trees. He caught my hand as soon as we were out of sight of the others, and it made my heartbeat quicken, the casual way he’d taken it contrasting with the fact he’d waited until we were out of sight. We walked a while without speaking, and I was so distracted with mapping the way his hand felt in mine that I didn’t even look for any wood. But then, neither did he.

‘I feel like I’ve hardly seen you while we’ve been on the road,’ he said, finally breaking the easy silence.

‘You see me every day,’ I laughed, though there was a thread of nerves running through it. Was he going to ask me about my choice to share a tent with Mae? Maybe to him it seemed strange, when we’d been living in rooms near each other in the Living Valley. But something about the size of a tent, the intimacy of it, gripped me with a sort of panic. I’d always been warned to keep from being alone with men until I was safely married, and even though I’d been alone with Elias plenty of times now… maybe something about leaving the Yawn brought that warning back into focus. But I didn’t want to say that to him. It sounded so stupid, so wary, so… human.

‘But not alone,’ he replied easily, seeming unaware of the way I was knotting up inside. ‘What’s it like for you, to be back among your own people?’

I didn’t know if I was relieved or disappointed when he chose this subject instead of the one I’d been worrying over. ‘It was easier when I wasn’t,’ I admitted.

‘Why?’

‘I guess everything was simpler in Living Valley. All I seem to feel out here is afraid or guilty.’

He released my hand to climb a fallen tree, before turning back to help me over it. When I reached the top, he stepped down, took a hold of my waist and swung me to the ground. My breath left me for a moment as I steadied myself with my hands on his shoulders, looking up at his warm amber eyes and feeling like I could melt beneath them, like I could turn to molten light.

‘That’s all you feel?’ he asked, that impish smile at the corner of his mouth again.

And when my gaze flickered to it, his expression changed. He skated fingers up the line of my jaw, held me still as he pressed his lips to mine, and it still made my heart stutter the way it had the first time he’d kissed me, made me ache like I wanted more than just that one kiss.

But at that thought, I pulled back with a jolt, like his hands were suddenly burning. Confusion clouded his expression, and I turned away to keep from seeing it, pulse thundering, heat flushing my neck and cheeks.

‘I think I can hear a stream,’ I muttered, walking onwards. ‘We can refill our water cans if we find it.’ He followed me after a moment, and I bit the inside of my cheek as I mentally chastised myself for being so stupid. What was I afraid of? That my nurse would come around the corner and catch me doing something I shouldn’t? That my father would punish him for coming too close to me, the way he once punished a stable hand who’d taken time to befriend me? I felt a twist of guilt and grief for even thinking that. My father was dead. It wasn’t fair to resent him.

Maybe I was just afraid of what I might want if Elias were to keep kissing me.

We came upon the stream I’d heard quite suddenly, its clear waters throwing glints of orange sunset from its surface as it meandered through the woods. Elias immediately knelt on the bank, plunged his cupped hands into the water and splashed it all over his face. ‘That’s better,’ he said, running fingers through his hair and shaking off the excess. ‘I feel like I’ve got a layer of dirt as thick as my forefinger all over me.’

I knelt next to him and dipped fingers in the water. ‘It’s so cold!’

‘It’s not that bad.’

I laughed as he flicked water at me, hands raised to defend myself. ‘Stop! You get in if you think it’s not cold.’

‘Alright.’ And with no more warning than that, he shed his coat, took a hold of the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. He rose to his feet, tossing it to the ground so casually, and when his hands went to the waistband of his trousers I quickly stood and took several steps back, arms crossed tightly across my chest, as though I had to lock my hands away. I was so glad he wasn’t looking at me, couldn’t see the stricken way I stared at him as he kicked off his shoes and stripped down to a pair of linen drawers, knee length and fastened with a drawstring at his waist. He hissed as he waded into the water and shuddered when the water reached his waist. ‘Right, it’s really cold,’ he said, turning back to me, chafing at his arms with his hands. ‘But come in anyway.’

I stood completely frozen, not knowing how to answer. I wanted to say something clever or funny. I wanted to be brave enough to do as he had just done, to strip down to my underclothes like it was nothing and walk boldly into the stream. ‘I don’t want to get wet,’ I mumbled, staying planted firmly up the bank.

‘Not even if it means being clean?’

I only smiled in reply, shaking my head. And I wrestled with trying to understand my trepidation as he ducked below the water, emerging again with a yelp, scrubbing the dirt of the road from his arms. I couldn’t help watching the way the water ran down the curves of his chest, the way his bronze skin glistened, and all I wanted to do was touch him. After a few minutes, he climbed out again, shaking the water off.

‘Better?’ I asked.

‘Much better.’ He grinned, reaching for me. Caught my hand. Pulled me towards him.

I shrieked as he wrapped his wet arms around me. ‘Stop! You’re freezing!’ I laughed, squirming as he burrowed his cold face into my neck.

‘And you’re warm.’

‘I was sensible enough not to get in the water.’

‘And now you’re wet anyway.’

He drew his face out of the crook of my neck and kissed me slowly, softly, his lips still chilled from the stream but his breath warm. He tasted as cold and clear as the water, and with my fingers splayed against his impossibly bare chest I could feel the thud of his heart.

‘This isn’t fair,’ I murmured, breaking the kiss, ‘at least your clothes are still dry.’

‘Take yours off and you can wear mine.’

That sobered me up very quickly. My heart began to flutter. My body stiffened even as my legs felt too weak to hold me up. He seemed to sense the change, drawing back to search my face.

‘Gwin, what’s wrong?’

My mouth was suddenly so dry. ‘Nothing’s wrong.’ My tongue felt swollen and clumsy.

‘Then why have you clammed up like that?’

I dropped my gaze from his, but only ended up staring at his throat, which didn’t help alleviate my intense awareness of how little clothing he was wearing.

‘Am I making you uncomfortable?’

‘No,’ I said immediately. ‘I’m just…’

‘Afraid of me?’ he finished for me when I couldn’t find the words, releasing his hold on my waist.

‘It’s not that. Not at all,’ I protested as he took a step back, and that breath of space between us felt like a gaping canyon because he’d given it to me so I wouldn’t feel afraid. But I wasn’t afraid. ‘It’s… I suppose… I’d never be allowed… you see…’ I couldn’t complete any of my thoughts. My cheeks were flaming hot with embarrassment. ‘If anyone knew I was here with you like this, it would cause me a lot of trouble,’ I finally blurted out. ‘Human culture has rules around the way unmarried women can behave.’

‘And those involve never being caught alone with a half-naked man?’

A bubble of semi-hysterical laughter burst in my mouth. ‘I know it must seem so… so…’

‘It’s alright,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to explain yourself. The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable.’

‘I’m not—’

‘I know. It’s okay.’ He swept a hand to the ground, picked up his coat and arranged it over my shoulders. ‘I’ll get dressed and we’ll go back.’

I clutched his coat around my shoulders and watched him dress, a phrase balancing on the tip of my tongue that I was trying to find the courage to speak. ‘I like it when you’re only half-dressed,’ I said, so quietly he might not have heard it. But I could tell he did when he paused in the act of pulling his trousers on, mouth twisting in a crooked smile.

When he was dressed again, he took my hand. ‘Come on. Let’s go before I change my mind and try to get you in the water after all.’

I smiled to myself as I followed him, nursing a bloom of warmth in my chest at the idea that he perhaps would like it if I was half-dressed, too. Or perhaps entirely undressed.

When we returned to camp, Elias’s wet hair and my semi-wet dress was explained with our discovery of a stream, news met with a deal of enthusiasm. It seemed Elias wasn’t the only one who was tired of being covered in dirt. The water cans were quickly rounded up for a second expedition to the stream.

‘I’m going to show them where it is,’ Elias said as I settled myself on one of the logs circled around the fire. ‘Are you going to stay here?’

‘I don’t need you getting my dress wet again,’ I teased. ‘I think I’ll stay and dry it out.’

He dropped a kiss to my hair, his hand lingering a moment at the small of my back, before shouldering a string of water cannisters and following the others.

I only realised Rhiandra had stayed behind when I turned and caught her watching me from the log next to mine. She had this way of looking at you, sometimes, dark eyes so sharp, like she was cutting you open and examining your insides. I blushed and glanced at the ground, suddenly intensely uncomfortable. I hadn’t done anything wrong, had I? Was she offended by the casual way Elias touched me? It was always like he wasn’t even thinking about it, like his hands were just drawn to me. Did she think he was taking liberties that he shouldn’t? My stomach squirmed as I imagined having to defend against an accusation of improper conduct. Would she bring up our walk into the trees, my damp dress and his wet hair? Oh Madeia, what would I say? How would I endure it?

‘It seems so easy between the two of you,’ she said finally, surprising me enough to drag my gaze from the ground. ‘You really love him, don’t you?’ The question wasn’t spoken with the same scorn with which she’d accused me of the same when she’d given me the apple. Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love.

But even so, I couldn’t answer the question. The answer felt too fragile. Maybe I did love him. It was hard to know when I’d never been in love before, but surely this fluttery bubbling in my chest, like sparkling wine was running through my veins, could be called by no other name. But did he love me? What if he didn’t? What if the Yoxvese didn’t love the way humans did? We’d never spoken about what we were to each other, and while kissing him ignited me and made me want things I didn’t know how to name, what if for him it wasn’t the same?

‘Have you ever been in love?’ I asked instead of answering her question.

She straightened, as if my question made her as uncomfortable as hers had made me. ‘Not like that,’ she said. ‘Whatever I’ve had, it’s been nothing like that.’

‘Maybe you could have that kind of love someday,’ I said, because there was a strange kind of regret in the way she’d spoken that tugged at my heart.

‘I don’t think I’m made for that kind of love.’ She touched fingers to the scars on her face almost absently, and I wondered if she thought they somehow made her unlovable. They didn’t, surely she knew that? But I didn’t know how to say that to her. And before I could, her eyes had narrowed, seeming to come back from whatever thought she had been mulling on, and she was cutting me up with a gaze even sharper than it had been before. ‘Has anyone spoken to you about the physical side of all this?’

I stared at her blankly. ‘The physical side?’

‘Sex.’ She spoke the word so matter-of-factly, and I was immediately blushing again, even hotter now than I had been.

‘I’ve… read some things.’ I stared very hard at the toe of my shoe, scuffing it against the dirt. I wasn’t even sure I’d ever heard anyone say the word aloud. The only times it had been spoken of in my presence had been in hushed tones and with veiled metaphors about wedding night duties that didn’t give me a lot of information about what actually went on.

‘Read what exactly? Scientific books on the mechanics of it all, or soppy romances that don’t deal with the practicalities?’

‘Maybe a little of each,’ I admitted, scuffing harder at the dirt and feeling terribly exposed. I hoped the others weren’t anywhere nearby and wouldn’t hear this conversation. It was mortifying to disclose that I’d sought out those sorts of books. No one had ever known I did before. No one had ever paid much attention to the books I took from the palace library.

‘Then do you know how to be safe?’

If I’d thought I’d been squirming before, that was nothing to what I was doing now. My gaze darted back to her face. ‘Rhiandra—’

She held up a finger. ‘No, you’re not going to tell me it’s not like that between you because I have eyes and I know better than that. You’re sixteen and I know what sixteen-year-olds are feeling and thinking about, and if the way you’ve been ogling each other is anything to go by, what you’ve been taught about marriage vows and chastity and what have you is feeling very far away right now. I’ve seen plenty of noble girls your age wind up pregnant and in trouble. My own mother was one of them. There is a very simple way to make sure that doesn’t happen to you.’

‘Seventeen.’

‘What?’

‘It was my birthday a few days ago. I’m seventeen.’

‘Oh.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

‘My birthday always meant getting another year closer to marrying Tallius. It’s never felt like something to celebrate.’

We were quiet for a long moment, and I took advantage of the silence to strain my ears to listen for the approach of the others returning with full water cannisters. But we still seemed very much alone. I knew we wouldn’t be for much longer, though. Maybe that’s why I found the courage to ask, ‘What’s it like?’

‘What’s what like?’ she replied, stirring from the dark glare she’d been directing at the centre of the fire.

‘The… physical side of love.’ I stumbled over the phrase she’d used before, and I couldn’t look at her as I said it. But something about her blunt way of speaking about it made me feel like I could ask the question.

She seemed to stew on her answer for a while. ‘It depends on who it’s with,’ she said finally. ‘And even then, it depends on what’s going on between you at the time. There’s as many types of sex as there are moods and people. But I’m not sure I’ll give you the best sense of what it’s like between two people in love. I’ve spent a good chunk of my life having sex for money, so my perspective on it is probably pretty skewed.’ As shocking as it was to hear her discuss her former life so frankly, her ability to cut through niceties and say the things no one else would was what had always drawn me to her. Not that this was her only side; at court, in front of my father, she’d been charming, full of smiles and flattery. I far preferred it when she was being shockingly honest.

‘I’ve heard other girls talk. Some of the housemaids were whispering about… how it hurts,’ I said, threading my fingers together on my lap and clenching my hands tightly. ‘Does it?’

‘A little the first time. More if you’re nervous. But it shouldn’t after that. It can be…’ Her words trailed off and she bit her lip, staring far off into the distance, perhaps turning over some memory. ‘Well, I suppose you’ll find out for yourself,’ she finished. ‘But before you do, there’s a tonic you can take. Try to wait until we can get our hands on some. Your life is complicated enough without adding pregnancy to your list of worries.’

I was saved from having to answer by the sound of voices in the trees, and a few moments later Tanathil was bounding towards us, carrying only one small flask of water while Goras lumbered along behind him with several cannisters hung from rope strung across his shoulders. I was both relieved and disappointed for the conversation to end. It had made me so incredibly uncomfortable, but at the same time, I liked that she’d decided it needed to be had. Our relationship had never felt much like mother and daughter, and she was too young for me to ever really see her as that, but legally I supposed she still was my stepmother. It was nice to think there was a part of her that thought of her role in my life like that.

With the tents set up and the horses seen to, there was only the evening meal to prepare and eat. As the last of the light drained from the sky, we sat on the circled logs, the heat of the fire warming our faces and bowls of food warming our hands, and I felt like some of that glow from the flames had seeped into my chest, filling it as I looked around at this group people who believed in me enough to follow me to Oceatold.

‘Your cooking is improving, Kel,’ Tanathil said, scraping his spoon along the side of his bowl. ‘This is almost edible.’

‘You cook next time,’ Kelvhan grunted, sitting forward with his elbows resting on his knees as he ate, gaze fixed on the centre of the fire.

‘Please, no, Tan will end up doing something experimental and poisoning us all,’ Mae chimed in. ‘I appreciate you and your predictability.’

A hint of a smile pulled at the corner of Kel’s mouth before he took another spoonful of stew, but he didn’t reply.

Footsteps and voices punctured the darkness and the easy quiet of eating.

‘Hello? Excuse us, we mean no harm.’ The voice belonged to a man emerging from the night, stepping into the glow of the firelight. He was dirt-crusted and shabby, clutching a hat in his hands. Behind him, a woman holding the hand of a small boy clung to the shadows, watching us warily. ‘My name is Niall,’ the man continued. ‘This is my wife Soifra and our son Mattias. I was wondering if you’d mind us joining your fire for a stretch? It’s proving to be a cold night and we’ve been on the road a while.’

‘Of course,’ I said immediately, my gaze clinging to that little boy and his wide, hungry eyes, my heart aching. Across the fire, Rhi’s gaze snapped to me.

‘We don’t know who they are,’ she said.

But I did know who they were. They were people who belonged to a kingdom I was supposed to care for, to protect. They were a family dragging their little boy along a dusty road in the dark because I had let the throne be stolen out from under me by the man who had started this war.

‘I’m Gwinellyn. You’re welcome to join us. There’s plenty of room,’ I continued as though Rhi hadn’t spoken, shifting a little beneath the burn of her disapproval. She stood and rounded the fire to stand by me, watching as the others made room and introduced themselves to the travellers.

‘We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile,’ she said under her breath.

‘We can do that while being decent people,’ I said. ‘Look. None of the others have a problem with it.’ And they didn’t. Tan was helping Niall drag a log over to the fire for them to sit on and Mae was already spooning the dregs of the stew into a bowl, her brow pinched as she took in the scrawny little boy. His mother accepted the bowl with a grateful smile.

‘Then on all your heads be it,’ Rhi muttered. ‘And I’d better not lose mine for it. I’m going to bed.’ She stalked off towards the tents, and I chewed my lip as I watched her go.

‘How long have you been on the road for?’ Kelvhan asked as the family settled onto the log and Soifra tried to convince Mattias to use a spoon with the stew instead of hungrily grabbing at it with his fingers. She glanced around at us in embarrassment as he just turned his little body away from her and continued cramming chunks of vegetable into his mouth.

‘A while,’ Niall said, holding his hands out towards the warmth. ‘Our lands were right on the border. We held out for as long as we could, but even when the skirmishes weren’t nearby, the soldiers kept taking what we had to feed the army. Each time they’d try leave us something, but then they’d come back and take what they’d left the last time. It just wasn’t worth holding out anymore, especially not if it escalates to a full-scale invasion.’

Guilt stirred in my stomach. This was my responsibility. If I’d been brave enough to go back to Lee Helse right after Rhiandra stranded me in the Yawn, would this family still be fleeing their home? Could I have done something to stop the calamity that had erupted since?

‘Where are you all headed?’ he asked after a few minutes of just the sound of the crackling fire and the chirping of crickets.

‘To Oceatold,’ I said.

His brows shot up. ‘Oh, aye? That’s a rough journey right about now.’ He picked up a stick and poked at the fire. ‘Not that you’d be the first to try it. I hear there’s another high lord who’s made it over the border with a handful of men. There must be a fair wash of Brimordian priests and lords and druthi in Sarmiers these days.’

‘Niall,’ Soifra hissed in warning.

‘What? Do they look like informants to you?’ he said, waving her off.

‘Informants?’ Elias repeated.

Niall grimaced. ‘We mean no offence. We had a run in with a few of them early on. Accused us of harbouring traitorous sentiment. You should have seen me talk my way out of it.’ He laughed uneasily. ‘I was probably a little vocal when the king renamed the country. Couldn’t help myself, though. I’ve been a proud Brimordian my whole life.’

‘When… he renamed the country?’ I repeated, uncomprehending.

‘I could’ve swallowed it if the new one hadn’t been such a kick in the teeth. Ashreign. Not even pretending he isn’t tearing the place apart.’

Ashreign . My stomach began to churn, my heartbeat growing heavy and loud. The usurper had not only stolen my kingdom, he was erasing it. He was burning it down around him. A reign of ashes.

‘You shouldn’t talk about these things,’ Soifra said, her voice barely above a whisper as she hugged her little boy to her side.

‘They’re on their way to Oceatold, love. They’re not loyal to the Blood King,’ he said gently, before turning his eyes on me. ‘Though, if you don’t mind my saying, you ought to be a little more careful with sharing that information. There’s plenty of sorts about looking to sniff out signs of trouble this side of the border. There’s been a push to put down civil unrest lately. If any get wind that you’re fleeing the country to join the restoration efforts, you’ll be in a spot of trouble.’

‘Though why they bother, I don’t know,’ Soifra muttered, before licking the pad of her thumb and wiping a smear of stew off her son’s cheek. ‘There are plenty who’ve refused to bend already in Oceatold. All those lords and priests and druthi, and what are they doing? Quarrelling amongst themselves. There’ll be no restoration until they can all agree on who and what they’re restoring. And while they’re figuring that out, we’re caught between civil uprisings and a border war, with nowhere to go.’ Her words ended with a hiccup of a sob. She sounded so desperate, and so tired of being desperate. Niall took her hand and squeezed it, but she didn’t even look up, staring at the ground with a slight wobble to her chin.

‘Sorry to bring you all down. We’ve been on the road a while,’ Niall said apologetically. ‘It’s not been easy when there are already so many others looking for a place to go. Most towns we’ve passed through have already been overrun by travellers.’

‘Where are you going?’ I asked, and my heart ached harder when he shrugged.

‘To someplace that’ll take us. Until we find it, we’ll keep walking. I know we’ll find somewhere soon.’

‘But it won’t be our home,’ Soifra said. ‘Who knows when we’ll see it again.’

‘You’ll see it again,’ I found myself saying, spurned on by that heated, churning feeling inside that seemed to hiss Ashreign all the way through me. ‘I promise.’

Soifra looked up at that, brows drawn low over her pale, intelligent eyes. Then she scoffed. ‘Did Niall pay you to say that? You sound just like him.’

‘I mean it. That’s why we’re going to Oceatold. We’re going to join the restoration efforts. Our forces will come together, and when they do, we’ll join with Oceatold and throw down the Usurper and restore the throne of Brimordia.’

She stared hard. ‘What did you say your name was again? Gwinellyn? Like the princess?’

I held her gaze steadily. ‘Like the princess.’

Niall didn’t seem to register my response as the talk turned into other territory. He pointed out some of the landmarks on our road ahead and exchanged advice on places to stop as he looked over Mae’s map, but Soifra’s eyes kept returning to me, and there was a spark of life in them that hadn’t been there before. When they left us to return to their wagon to sleep, Niall thanked us all heartily for the warmth and the conversation, and as he gathered their boy from where he’d curled up on a blanket on the ground, Soifra drew close to me, those pale eyes searching mine, before she took my hand.

‘Safe travels,’ she said. ‘May Aether protect you.’

‘You too,’ I replied. She smiled so brightly, stepping back to bob a funny little curtsey, laughing at herself as she wobbled. Naill raised his eyebrows at her as she rejoined him, and she kissed him on the cheek. ‘Let’s put this boy to bed.’

Elias drew close to me, watching them as they drew out of the firelight and back into the dark. ‘You told her who you are.’

‘Not exactly. I hinted.’

‘I’m not sure that was wise.’

‘Did you see them? They needed something to hope for. Everyone on this road needs something to hope for. Maybe I can’t give them back what they’ve lost right now, but at the very least they can go to sleep tonight knowing that someone is going to fight for them. They can lay their little boy to bed knowing there’s at least the possibility of better times to come.’

‘I know,’ he replied, running his fingers up and down my arm. ‘It’s just a risk.’

‘It was one worth taking.’ And in that moment, it was. I didn’t feel like it had been a risky decision. It had felt like one I’d had to make. It felt like taking ownership of who I was, of what I was doing. It felt like making that promise to her had meant fully taking responsibility for all those people we’d passed on the road. They were my people. I hadn’t forgotten them. I was going to save them all.