Chapter Three
M y body relaxes as the doors close behind me, dampening the sounds from the great hall and instantly putting space between me and everything King Hadeon said this evening.
I pay no attention to the guards lining the doorway as his words replay over and over again. “...your duty… second chances.” Betrothed again.
I don’t even know Lysander Sturdevant. I knew Avicii. And look how that ended.
The familiar feeling itches in my periphery. It comes on faster and frequently now since that day. I’ve learned it's only worse if I fight it, so I succumb to the anxiety enveloping me once again. Its spindly legs climb out from the darkness and wrap themselves around me, hooking me until I can’t breathe. The walls, so wide and tall moments before, close in around me. The sea salt air from the bay tingles my senses with just a hint of frost as I inhale deeply, gasping for breath, trying to regain composure so I cling to it.
The crisp night air calls to me through the rising swell of emotions and I grip onto it like a lifeline. As my breathing continues to come in fits and gasps, I try to keep my attention on my steps. One foot in front of the other.
By the time I make it to the open terrace, I’m frantic for air. My nails dig into the banister. The unforgiving marble pushes back against my efforts, but I persist. I drink down the chilly autumnal air and it becomes the tonic to my thirsty lungs. The stone digs into my hips as I throw myself as far over the edge of the railing as I can, greedily taking in as much air as I can.
“Just breathe,” an unfamiliar voice says from just behind me. The distraction jolts me from my head long enough to find a deep breath. Then another.
“There you go. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” His melodic voice is soothing but I’m too tired to speak to another person tonight. Between Father’s surprise announcement and the long journey here, my patience wears thinner by the moment.
“I know—” I take in another breath of air. “How to breathe,” I say, instantly biting my tongue as the words tumble out. “I’m fine—let me be.” The response is unlike me, but I’m too focused on finding my breath to worry if I’ve hurt a courtier’s fragile feelings.
“Come now, I can’t leave you like this. If you pass out, you’ll likely fall over the railing and into the sea so far below. I’m involved now.”
“I—” But the words get stuck in my throat. I push against the banister to stand and as gracefully as I can, wipe the wind-swept hair out of my face. His hand lightly presses against the small of my back, steadying me as I pat my hair and my dress back into place. As I look up though, I bite my tongue again, but for a different reason.
Standing in front of me is the bard. I misjudged his appearance.
He’s not beautiful.
He’s masculinity personified. His looks are completely debilitating. My knees turn to jelly and I grab onto his arm to steady myself. Looking up, I could get lost in the kaleidoscope of his eyes. The way the pale greens merge and sparkle with seafoam blue reminds me of those perfect days when the fields grow knee high with grasses and the wind moves just right, so if movement had a song, that would be it.
I glance around, knowing me conversing with a bard as soon as I return to the castle will have everyone talking. But we’re the only ones standing outside the arching doorways, the entire court remains inside, enjoying the generous hospitality of my family.
His eyes show a flicker of surprise as he bows low before me. “Princess.” The movement gives me just enough time to gather my own wits about me.
But it’s short lived.
Black dots dance across my vision.
Many years in the healer’s ward tell me because of my shallow breathing and standing up too quickly, I’m about to do exactly what he fears. I try to voice this, to warn him before I feel myself falling, but my words jumble in my throat and all that comes out is a cry. The vague thought flits through my mind that I’m going over the railing just as he said.
But two muscular arms wrap around me, fixing me here in both mind and body. Instead of fainting, I fall against his chest. Even in my fuzzy state of mind—the hard, chiseled lines that meet my forehead don’t go unnoticed and the smell of fresh snow awakens my senses.
I can feel his body stiffen for a moment and then relax when I relax against him. The same arms that kept me from falling tighten around me, safely tucking me in close to his body. Just like Licia’s hug upon my arrival, the contact is a feeling I didn’t know I needed.
But unlike Licia’s hug, the embrace awakens feelings I haven’t felt in a long time. Feelings I thought had dissolved into darkness many, many years ago.
Footsteps break the silence between us; the moment we share fades as a demanding yell fills the air. “What’s all this?” Two guards stand at the ready, their hands at their sword belts. They look from the man before me and then to me standing in his grasp, taking in the scene. By the matching stunned look on their faces, I can only imagine the state I’m in and what this must look like.
My savior moves to stand between me and the guards, using his body as a shield.
A mistake.
The guards instantly recognize me as this man before me shifts. “Step away from her! It’s okay, Princess, you’re safe now.”
I open my mouth to explain the situation, but the guards draw their swords, causing me and the man before me to put our hands up placatingly.
“There’s no cause for swords,” the man before me speaks; his voice clear and steady as if he’s still on stage in the great hall, not held here at sword point. “I’ll go with you willingly.” He waits until the guards are satisfied there’s no further threat. One of them nods and motions him forward.
I stand there, dumbfounded and unable to say anything. My hands twist in my skirts as I try to find the right words to say or what to do to save him. As they retreat, him leading the death march, his back is stick straight and his shoulders squared in confidence as if there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
My mouth still opens and closes fruitlessly, gaping at what just happened. How did the moment change so quickly? His fate is sealed if those guards voice what they think happened. And there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Wait!” I call as if stalling them for a moment longer will provide a solution. But there’s nothing. The guards don’t even pause.
But just as they turn back into the hallway, the bard turns back to me one last time. I thought when our eyes locked, I would find dread or defeat. Instead, he winks and sends a dazzling smile my way.