CHAPTER 46
Keenan
What must have been the full council stood before him. Mamoru sat in the middle, her bulk dwarfing Chasseur on her right and the centaur and faun on her left. An array of other creatures spread out next to them, reminding Keenan of a picture he’d once seen in a book.
Tiny people that might be pixies flitting around on wings, short dwarves whose plaited beards reached their belts. A person in a long flowing dress with flowers in her hair and pale green skin. A strange horse that looked like it was made of water.
More than he could take in, more than he could reasonably describe as the great blue dragon stuck her nose in his face.
“Less than a week. We entrusted the sphinx to you to protect, to protect us! And you lost it in less than a week?”
Keenan took a step back, still trying to wrap his mind around the variety of people in front of him. Surely not all of them were subject to the control of the sphinx? He thought it was geared toward those that were more animal-like.
But Cherry had told him during the wagon ride to Kurowan that the magic of living creatures covered both animals and people. So perhaps the sphinx’s power did the same.
“I tried!” he protested. “What was I supposed to do, fight off twenty men with just myself and Oliver? They would have turned over my belongings to Queen Arisa as soon as she asked for them, so she still would have gotten it.”
“You should have asked for help.” Chasseur stepped forward, his beak snapping angrily. “We do not wish to be used for heinous crimes or for the holder’s own power, but ordering us to protect the sphinx is not a crime. To protect it from those who would use us in that manner will not make us angry.”
“Do you not trust us to help you, Keenan?” the centaur asked gently.
He fought for words, but none came. They had entrusted him to keep them safe, and he had failed them.
“He fell asleep.” Cherry’s creaky voice; he was surprised she’d been allowed to attend this meeting. But she circled overhead, then landed between him and his accusers. “I think all the strain of the last few days finally caught up with him.”
“And that should excuse him?” Chasseur said, taking another step forward and bobbing his eagle’s head angrily. “Sleeping when he should have been watching for the enemy!”
“Everyone has to sleep,” Keenan protested. “Or do you expect me to command one of you to keep watch next to me? Seems like that would make it rather obvious what I’m hiding.”
“It’s my fault, I’m afraid,” another familiar voice sighed.
Keenan whirled, shocked to find her there. “Princess?”
Holding her hands at her waist, she stepped toward the council. “I know it’s late, but I insisted Father resolve this tonight. He will only have more things to do in the morning, and I refuse to let you languish in a comfortable prison for longer than necessary.”
Furrowing his brow, Keenan glanced over his shoulder at the semicircle of magical beings before turning back to the princess. “What are you talking about? This isn’t a prison.”
She walked up to him and set a light hand on his cheek. He leaned into it, enjoying the feel of her soft fingers on his face. “They should have given you a razor so you could make yourself presentable for the king,” she murmured. “But I suppose you could have hurt someone with that.”
He heard the eye-roll in her voice, even though not a trace of it showed on her face.
Her thumb stroked his cheek. “Time to wake up, Keenan. My father has finally agreed to grant you an audience.”
“Wake up?” he echoed, confused.
He looked back at the council, worried that this interruption would offend them further. But before any of them could respond, Cherry grinned brightly and wiggled into her haunches. “You’re being too gentle. I’ll get him up!” Then she launched herself into the air, landing heavily in his stomach.
His eyes flew open. Instead of standing in a dark meadow, he was lying on a striped settee in a candlelit room. The little green dragon curled her tail around herself, looking very pleased as she settled deeper into his stomach.
“What was that for?” Keenan wheezed. A soft laugh drew his eyes up. Princess Sakura, her pretty black hair half up, half hanging loose around her shoulders, smiled down at him.
He scrambled upright, dislodging Cherry. He vaguely remembered turning sideways and hooking his legs over the armrest, but he hadn’t expected to fall asleep.
And thank the heavens for that. When sheltered from young women, he usually slept shirtless. Miss Beatrice had stopped scolding him for it years ago, instead resigning herself to his uncivilized ways.
“What are you doing here, Princess?” he gulped.
“I finally convinced my father to give you an audience,” she replied, enunciating each word.
“Yes, but why are you here?” he stressed. “Shouldn’t one of the guards have fetched us?”
She rose from her crouch. “I wished to tell you myself. And Kagemori came in with me.”
The young guard waved from a few feet away. “I asked Kasumi to fetch me when you were called before the king. It can’t hurt to have another witness vouch for your behavior during our travels.”
“If the princess can’t convince them, how will a guard?”
He shrugged. “I’ve heard of a condition where kidnapping victims grow attached to their captors.
If the supposedly kidnapped princess speaks in support of the foreigners responsible for her predicament, it may not seem reliable.
” He ducked his head. “Especially when she seems unexpectedly fond of one of them.”
“Kagemori?” Princess Sakura said primly, still facing Keenan.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“Shut up.”
Keenan gaped at her. “I never thought I’d hear you say such an uncouth thing, Princess.”
Her lips twitched. “I must be spending too much time around you.”
“Another count against me,” he laughed, wishing it weren’t quite so true. He stood and grabbed his pack. “But with any luck, I’ll be out of your hair soon.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.
“I feel like I’ve been clear since the day I arrived to interrupt your life, Princess,” he said quietly, not meeting her eyes as he swung the pack onto his back.
“I promised to protect Miss Liesl while she hunts for her friend, and I’ve done a rotten job of it since that bandit attack.
I intend to redeem myself as soon as possible. ”
The door swung open. “Is everything all right in there, Your Highness?” the hallway guard asked. “It was my impression you would be out in a minute or two.”
The princess’s spine straightened. “We will be along shortly. Keenan, Oliver, do you need anything else?”
Oliver, who already had his pack, shook his head and strode for the door, gesturing for Mori to follow. Keenan trailed after them, letting the princess bring up the rear since she was technically keeping an eye on him. The guard at the door looked at them askance. “Should you be taking your packs?”
“Safety blanket,” Keenan said, reaching up to pat one of the straps. “I’ve been carrying it for so long, I would fall to pieces if you made me leave it behind.”
The guard wrinkled his nose, but when the princess didn’t object, he stepped aside and let them pass.
Once they were in the hall, Keenan slowed his steps so that Princess Sakura could join him.
Her stride, which had grown freer when they were underground, had returned to the mincing one she’d used when he met her.
Her soft shoes whispered across the floor, making barely a sound in comparison to his own clomping boots.
And she was silent. The princess was never chatty unless she was expounding on some element of physical science, but the silence felt heavy, like when he had first arrived at the winter castle and she kept all her thoughts, emotions, and interests in a tight fist, carefully controlling what those around her saw.
And he didn’t like it.
Letting his steps carry him closer, he nudged her with his elbow. “You’re acting perfect again. How do I persuade you to be you instead of the princess?”
“If you do not know the answer already, I do not think that I can tell you.”
He sighed. “Princess, you know I can’t stay. You know why. I can’t do that to you or your people.”
“You say that you wish me to be myself instead of a princess.” She lifted her chin, then turned her head to pierce him with her black eyes.
“Yet you refuse to call me by my name, and you strip my choice from me because of my title. Which is it, weapon-smith? Do my title and its expectations trap me in a certain form, or am I free to be who I am despite the family I was born to?”
“That’s not fair.” His left hand clenched into a fist. “Your mother’s rules for you are built around societal expectations. Not laws that affect you specifically because of your rank.”
She stopped walking and faced him. “No one will die if I step outside the law’s requirements, Keenan. No one will even be put in prison for it. Should I not be allowed to choose?”
“But there are still consequences.” He eased away from her. The light in her eyes was dangerous.
“Should I not be free to choose whether I am willing to accept the consequences?”
The princess stepped forward, and he moved back to keep the space between them. They had performed a similar dance a few days earlier, but the emotion surging through his chest wasn’t anger this time.
“You shouldn’t make that kind of decision based on feelings,” he argued weakly. He could smell lavender in her hair, and it was no more helpful than the wall that his pack collided with at that moment.
She stepped right up to him, but she didn’t touch him. “I’m not asking you to give me cherry blossoms,” she said softly. “I’m asking you to call me who you think I am.”
“Cherry blossoms?”
“Later,” she whispered. She gazed up into his eyes. “Who am I, Keenan?”
“That’s a silly question.” He tried to laugh, but it didn’t come out quite right. “You’re you.”
“And who am I? The princess? Or Sakura?”
He gulped. “That’s a dangerous question.”
“Why?”