Chapter 29 Jess #2
I tried to gather myself. “If you make me piddle in the middle of this room, I’ll knock your Dittler off!”
Everyone sitting near the fire burst into laughter, and I heard the echoes of “leg juice” several tables away.
A few heartbeats later, the musician caught the fever and struck up “The Chicken Dance” on his mandolin.
Utter chaos ensued as the crowd leaped to their feet with their voices raised and arms flailing to the rhythm of the music.
Danym and I laughed until our sides hurt.
That night might have been the most fun I ever had.
It took a while for the common room to settle following all the wing flapping. By then, I felt sleep tugging at my lids. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the older couple from earlier, still holding hands, turn and stare with knowing smiles.
“Danym, look at them. They make me believe happiness really is possible.” My eyes fogged.
“Is that what you see for us? Sitting across a table, holding hands, wrinkles deepening with each passing minute? I could do with fewer wrinkles, if we’re being honest.”
“I’m serious.” I snorted, turning my gaze back to the couple. “Other little girls dream of being a princess, wearing fancy dresses, and living in a palace. I’ve done those things, lived them my whole life, and I’d trade them all for a lifetime like those two.”
Danym reached across the table, took my hand, and drew my gaze to his. “You already did, and here we are.”
A knock startled me awake.
“Sorry to wake you, miss, but the Constables are back and asking for ya both.” The innkeeper knocked two more times for good measure.
“We’ll be right down. Give us a minute,” I called out.
The night had been awkward at first, each of us dancing around who would sleep where and in what clothing. Eventually, we decided to sleep in the bed together, but remain clothed in deference to propriety.
It was the first time I ever slept in Danym’s arms.
I felt his breath on my neck, the beat of his heart against my back, the warmth of his arms wrapped around me.
As tired as I was, I lay awake for the longest time, breathing in his scent and reveling in his touch. I hoped that night was the beginning of a lifetime of peaceful slumber wrapped in his embrace.
Danym whispered as we rose. “We never talked about who we’re supposed to be. What have you told them so far?”
“I told the leader of that city guard unit that you’re my brother.”
Danym laughed. “Well, we blew that last night. Our only hope is that he didn’t talk to the innkeeper or the Constables in the corner—or any of the other hundred people in the common room.”
“So, what now? What do we tell them?” Panic churned in my gut.
“My dad always says the toughest guys to crack are the ones who tell mostly truth but weave a lie inside it. Let’s just tell them we ran away together, that your parents wanted to marry you off, and we couldn’t live without each other. That’s the truth, isn’t it?”
Danym finished lacing his boots and stood. He seemed confident in his tale.
“I guess. What are our names? I told them I was Petti and you were . . . oh, hells, what name did I give them? Danym, I don’t remember.” I began to pace. “What if they ask who our parents are? Or where we live? Or—”
“Jess, breathe. We’ll figure it out. If you act nervous, they’ll know we’re not telling them the truth.” He took my hand, gave it a squeeze.
“Nervous? Why would I be nervous? My parents are the King and Queen. We just ran away from the Palace. The entire Army and national Constable force are probably looking for us, and we’re being pursued by men in strange masks and robes who shot you. Oh, and we’re about to be questioned.
I can’t imagine what there is to be nervous about.”
He dropped my hand and gripped my shoulders, then reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “If you feel like the room is spinning, just let me talk. We’ll be fine.”
With that, we headed downstairs.
The common room was once again empty and quiet, except for the ever-present innkeeper, who was buzzing about as though the place was still packed with restless diners.
Two uniformed men were seated at a table in the middle of the room facing the door we entered through.
I recognized the leader of the team who’d rescued us immediately.
“Good to see you again.” He looked Danym up and down. “And nice to see you on your feet. You had us scared for a minute.”
“I was too out of it to be scared, but thank you. I hear we owe you our lives.” Danym had an easy smile about him.
I felt like I might throw up.
“Just doing our job. Please, take a seat. We just have a few questions.” He smiled warmly as we approached the table.
“Why don’t we start with an introduction? I’m First Sergeant Betz and this is my partner, Constable Wilover. You are?”
I watched as Danym never broke eye contact with Betz. “Beryl. And this is my fiancée, Sylvia.”
Pause.
“So . . . you’re not brother and sister?”
I shifted in my seat and stared at the table. “No, sir. I’m sorry about that. It’s just . . . everything moved so fast . . . and Da—Beryl was shot. I couldn’t think.”
Betz’s gaze bore into Danym. “Beryl, where are you two headed?”
“Probably east toward Huntcliff. We haven’t thought that through all the way, but we had to get out of Fontaine.” Danym reached down and grabbed my hand beneath the table.
“Were those men chasing you in Fontaine? Is that why you’re going east?”
Danym laughed. “Oh, no. We just wanted to get away from her parents.”
“Is that right, Sylvia?”
It took me a second to realize that Betz was addressing me. I nodded nervously. “Yes, sir.”
Betz leaned forward. “Sylvia, did your parents hurt you?”
“Oh, no! Never. Nothing like that.” Genuine shock flooded my face. I couldn’t imagine such rumors about my parents. Mother might want to send me away, but she had never laid a hand on me in anger, and Father would execute anyone bold enough to do so.
Pause.
They were waiting for something.
I couldn’t figure out what I was supposed to say, so I opted to remain silent.
Betz leaned back. “So, what can you tell us about those men who were chasing you?”
Danym squeezed my hand. “The first time we saw them, we were at the eastern edge of Fontaine, near the Cathedral. We’d made it a few days, almost a week, into the Spires before we saw them again. That’s when they started shooting, and we realized we’d better run. You know the rest.”
Wilover scribbled notes. Betz glared.
And stared.
I noticed a bead of sweat forming on Danym’s temple.
Abruptly, Wilover closed his journal, and Betz stood.
I nearly jumped out of my chair.
“Well, I think that’s all we need for now. Our Healer thinks you’ll need a few days to fully recover, so I suggest you stay put for now,” Betz said.
“I’m not sure we can afford to stay too many nights in this place. We really should get going,” Danym said.
“Oh, don’t worry about the cost. The Crown has you covered.” Betz smirked on his way out the door, leaving Danym and me frozen in our seats.