Page 24

24

ZULA

Z ula did not see Neo again for two weeks. After the incident in the jungle, he left, and guards escorted her to a prison. At least she assumed it was a prison, a tower of sorts set in the middle of a lake where the shore was just a swim away. But Zula did not attempt to escape, because she felt undeserving. Besides, she wasn’t sure where she would go. Back to the jungle, where everything had gone wrong? Or start a new life without being sure what had actually happened to her father?

Most frustrating of all was the loss of Neo’s company. She felt the ghost of his presence as she worked in the garden, pulling weeds, or washed dishes in the kitchens, or mended clothes on rainy days in front of the firelight. All tasks she was not good at, tasks that made her feel as though she was only good at stealing. Try as she might, she couldn’t figure out what to do next.

Deep within, she knew that Neo had gotten under her skin, and if she’d trusted him instead of setting him up for an ambush, she might be in a very different situation. Guilt ate at her and she thought of escape, she thought of her father, she considered the buried harp, but she knew if she left, she’d be under the power of the witch again, without protection. She’d lived so long for herself, laughing in the faces of her enemies, enemies who might have become her friends had she not stolen from them.

All along, she’d chosen the wrong alliances for the thrill of the heist, for the praise she heard whispered in corners, gossiped about in taverns. She’d achieved fame, stolen wealth, but for what purpose? She had no one to rely on, nothing to return home to.

Whereas Neo, the prince, had everything. He had an important job, a family, a beautiful home, people who cared about him, friendships, everything she wished she had. He was famous, powerful, but without the rotten attitude that often haunted those who had everything at their fingertips.

And he liked her.

Might have even been in love with her.

And she’d thrown it in his face, discarded his affections as though they were worthless.

Was she always meant to push people away, to steal their joy and replace it with frustration, anger, and unhappiness?

And so, for the first time in her life, she didn’t steal, nor did she plan an escape. She let the realization sink in that all her heists, all her thefts, counted for nothing. Life was much more than stealing.

Was it too late to change? To live a life worthy of a prince? Impossible, but she wanted to try. Her fingertips danced over her lips as she recalled his sure, steady kisses, his hand on her hip, and the way her heart fluttered.

It was him, possibly had been him all along, who made her want to change.

“Someone is here to see you,” one of the female guards called, interrupting Zula’s thoughts. She climbed down the ladder, oranges in both hands. The grove was full of women working, most of them singing as they harvested the oranges.

A knot of dread sat in the pit of her belly. “Who is it?” she asked, thoughts drifting to one of the thieves, or perhaps the witch.

Another reason she hadn’t attempted escape was because she was concerned about who’d find her, and what that might mean for her life.

“You’ll have to come see,” the guard said, not unkindly.

Zula followed her back to the tower. On the round balcony that overlooked the orchards, a man leaned against the railing, watching the workers. Zula drew in a sharp breath when she saw that it was Neo. He wore dark blue, which highlighted the redness of his hair, all brushed back from his forehead, neatly trimmed. As usual, he stood casually, hands in pockets, his easy stance welcoming, belying the fact that he carried the power and authority of both sheriff and prince.

He turned when she entered and the guard beat a hasty retreat, leaving them alone. A smile pulled at the corner of his wide mouth. “You’re still here. I thought you would have escaped by now.”

Zula self-consciously tucked a curl behind her ear. A leaf fell out of her hair and she noticed dirt on her palms. Nothing unusual, but in Neo’s presence, she wanted to look her best. “There’s nowhere to go. I figured here would be the safest place for me.”

She didn’t ask about her father, although she wanted to.

“I’m impressed,” Neo said. “I have a proposition for you.”

She shifted from foot to foot. “What if my answer is no?”

He paused, his gaze moving to the orchards. “Is your answer no? You might as well tell me and save me the time. I didn’t expect you to so easily trade the life of a thief to work in the orange orchards.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Zula’s mouth, and she relaxed. Out here, away from the palace, it was easier to think of him as just Neo. Not a prince. Not a sheriff. Just an oddly attractive man she found herself bemused by. “Working in an orchard has many perks—dirt under the fingernails, the constant inch from being tickled by leaves, the scent of orange that always lingers. Not to mention the peacocks that roam the islands. Did you know they get incredibly upset if anyone goes near their nests? For such a pretty bird, they are vicious.”

Neo laughed, and something in his gaze shifted. Taking his hands out of his pockets, he closed the distance between them and picked yet another leaf out of her hair. “I rather like the scent of orange that lingers, and I understand the peacocks. They are vicious when intruders cross into their territory. I’d be too.”

Zula took a shuddering breath and forced herself to hold his gaze. “I hoped you’d return, and so I stayed. I know it’s not much, but I hope you’ll give me another opportunity to earn your trust.”

“Words I thought I’d never hear from the legendary Blue-Feathered Bard. Do you still have your ukulele?”

“I do. They never took it from me. I’ve wondered why.”

Neo’s face turned red. “It was a test to see if you’d walk out of this prison and set yourself free. You passed.”

“Is that why you came for me?” Zula quipped, suddenly aware of how close he stood and how much he towered over her.

“I thought you might want to see your father, and we have a witch to defeat.”

“Where? What happened?”

“Nothing yet, but I have a plan.”

He winked, green eyes creasing as his entire face lit up with a mischievous smile. Zula’s heart tumbled and suddenly the heat of the day got to her, her breath coming short.

Neo stepped back and scratched the back of his neck. Rather violently, he put his hands in his pockets again and glanced at the sky.

“We should be going.”

Zula nodded, unable to keep the delight from sizzling up her spine.

The guard escorted her to gather her belongings, which was really just the ukulele. There was no one else to say goodbye to, and when she stepped outside of the tower, Neo was waiting for her in a rowboat.

It rocked as she sat down across from him and placed the ukulele on her lap, suddenly tongue-tied.

Neo didn’t seem to mind as he rowed them back to shore, past the croaking frogs, the white-and-orange koi fish, and the cloud-white lilies floating in the water. Fish jumped out, snatching at their prey, the tiny bugs that hovered over the surface, and on the far bank a group of ducks dived for food.

It was peaceful. Lovely. Almost a sort of paradise, except for the tower on the island of oranges. Zula still couldn’t figure out if it was a women’s prison or a nunnery. She didn’t think she wanted to know.

When they reached the shore, a carriage was waiting for them, complete with four horses and a driver.

Neo opened the door for her and Zula climbed inside, marveling at the plush seats. She eyed Neo. “This is excessively nice. Why are we traveling by carriage?”

Neo settled across from her, long legs stretched out across the seat. “Oh, it’s so that we draw attention. There’s a particular spot I suspect we’ ll get robbed at, and the gang is one I’ve been wanting to catch for a while. Perhaps you’ve heard of Robin Greensleeves and his gang?”

“The man who wears the green hood?” Zula scowled. He was competition and had beaten her out of some jobs.

“The very same,” Neo confirmed.

“Why do you want him?”

Neo cocked his head, studying her. “Are you jealous?”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You sound . . . upset,” he teased.

Zula crossed her arms. “Do you make it a habit? Going around and collecting thieves?”

“You know I do.”

“Is he going to work with us, too?”

Neo chuckled. “No. But he has something I need. Then it’s off to prison for him.”

Zula shook her head. “You do know that you’re the most incorrigible sheriff I’ve ever met. ”

“I’m aware my habits are unusual. Is it going to distract from our working relationship?”

Cheeks heating, Zula turned to the window. “It already is.”

“What can I do to endear myself to you?”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Shamelessly.” Neo’s voice went low. “I thought it was clear.”

Zula shifted in discomfort. “Isn’t it . . . against the law?”

He moved to sit beside her, leaning close. “I’m sure it is, but I’ve never shied away from skating along the boundaries of the law.”

That fluttering began in her lower belly. “Neo—” she began.

“Zula,” he cut her off.

And then his mouth was on hers.