Chapter 4
Ashtine
Blood will be shed.
A prince will fall.
The realm hangs in the balance.
A beginning or an ending? Time will tell.
The answers lie across the sea.
Ashtine stared up at the ceiling of her dark rooms, nestled under blankets and furs. The sun would rise soon, and she hadn’t slept. Her fingers dug into the soft coverings, and she shifted, curling onto her side.
Power will be resurrected.
Darkness and fire of the stars will draw out the prince who hides in plain sight.
She may be too late.
Her windows were closed. The doors to her balcony were locked tight, but the winds still found her. They still kept her awake. They were still incessant.
Prince Briar had visited twice more in the last two weeks.
Her Court was uneasy every time he was here, and she did not entirely blame them.
Each of them had tracked her down individually and tried to ease into a conversation about what they were doing, but her answers never placated them.
They had insisted on dinner as a court tonight, again expressing concern she wasn’t eating, and Briar’s increased visits had been brought up once more.
Ermir had started the conversation, backed up by Renly and Sion, but she’d had trouble focusing on what they were saying.
It had been a warmer day and all the windows had been opened.
The winds had been loud, and it now carried over into the night.
The realm will fall to one.
Blood will stain the lands.
Those across the sea know.
Go there!
She flung the blankets off, sliding from the bed and going to her dressing room. Shucking off her nightclothes, she slipped on a lightweight cream dress, leaving her hair unbound. She didn’t bother with shoes. They wouldn’t be necessary where she was going.
Five days.
It had been five days since Briar’s last visit.
The winds were … different on the days he was in the Citadel libraries with her.
Perhaps it was simply because she was in the catacombs, but this wasn’t the same.
She could feel the winds stir, but they were quieter.
The incessant whispers were occasional murmurs that she found easy to ignore if she wished.
And it was because of that she found herself stepping into the winds and then onto the shores of a beach.
Winds and waves. The balance tips.
Stop, she retorted, but there was no bite in her mental reply. She was too exhausted to feel the annoyance.
Blood will be shed.
A prince will fall.
Answers lie across the sea, locked away and hidden.
Gritting her teeth, Ashtine moved down the beach until the waves rolled over the tops of her feet and her toes sank into the wet sand. She’d hoped it would ground her for some inexplicable reason. It did nothing of the sort.
Blood will spill.
Enough! she snapped.
Find the one to cross the sea.
“Be still!” she cried into the night, her voice breaking as another round of waves rolled to shore.
He comes.
She turned just as a water portal appeared, and the Water Prince stepped onto the beach.
Wearing only loose linen pants, the moonlight reflected off his dark skin, and his white hair appeared nearly as silver as her own beneath the stars.
He went still when he spotted her, as if he hadn’t expected her to be there.
But that couldn’t be right. Why else would he suddenly come to the beach at this exact place and moment in time?
She’d assumed he’d felt her cross into his Court.
All the Court Royals could feel when great power entered their territory.
Most of their Inner Courts could feel it too.
“Princess Ashtine,” he greeted, stopping several feet away from her.
“Prince Drayce,” she returned in kind.
His icy gaze swept over her. “Are you well?”
Her smile was forced as she turned to face the waters once more. “Do you ever attempt to outrun the waves?”
“No. They call to me, and my soul answers,” he replied, moving to stand beside her before facing the sea as well. “But the waves are not as capricious as the winds.”
Ashtine glanced at him side-long, finding him with his hands clasped behind his back and eyes closed. Only the sounds of the waters stirred the night. Even the winds had gone still.
“I used to feel such things about the winds until days of late,” she said softly.
Briar turned, and she felt his gaze on her. “How else can I be of aid, Ashtine?”
Ashtine.
Her name from his lips brought her the grounded feeling she’d been seeking by coming here. It had not been the beach or the waves, and something uneasy crept up her spine at the idea of that.
It was dangerous to seek such respite in another, and it was foolish to find it in a prince from a rival court.
“I should not have come here uninvited,” she said suddenly, taking a step back from him.
“Did I not do the same to you mere weeks ago?” he countered.
“Yes, but you had a purpose.”
“You do not strike me as someone who takes aimless actions.”
She wasn’t someone who did that.
And she had come here with a purpose. She just hadn’t expected him to be the one to fulfill what she was seeking.
“The winds are not as volatile when I am around you,” she said suddenly. “I do not understand why. Even now, they do not speak when they have tormented me all night. All day. Too many days and nights.”
His brow furrowed. “Ashtine, when was the last time you truly slept?”
“It was so long ago, I cannot recall,” she whispered. Before he could say something further, she asked, “Why are you on the shore at this hour?”
“I also find sleep evading me as of late,” he sighed. “I was hoping Abrax would be waiting for me as he often is, but I was gifted your presence instead.”
“Abrax finds you often?” she asked, speaking of the water horse that was the spirit animal of Anahita, goddess of the seas and water. Abrax was bonded to Briar in the same way Nasima was bonded to her.
“He does,” Briar answered. “Others simply do not see it as he cannot perch on my shoulder.”
A breath of laughter escaped her. “You jest.”
He glanced over at her and smiled. “I do.”
Her head tilted. “You do so often?”
His small smile faded. “Not as often as I once did.”
“What changed?”
“The world is ever-changing,” he answered. “Do not let me keep you,” he added as he lowered to the sand.
Ashtine nodded, trying to decipher what she should do. She wanted to stay. There was a peace here that was evading her at home, but not if he wanted her to leave.
“You wish to be alone?” she finally asked.
“I simply do not wish for you to feel obligated to stay,” he answered, resting his forearms atop his bent knees.
She nodded again. “Are you opposed to me staying?”
He looked up at her, his brow pinched. “Of course not, your Highness.”
Another nod, but still she didn’t move to sit. Or leave for that matter.
“Do you wish to stay?” Briar asked after an extended stretch of awkward silence.
“I do.”
A soft smile appeared. “Then sit, Ashtine.”
“But if you wish for me to—”
“Do you always overthink?”
A frown pulled on her mouth. “I am well aware that others find me perplexing, Prince Drayce. I find social situations just as bewildering.”
“Is that what this is? A social situation?”
“I don’t know because—” Then she glimpsed the smile he was fighting. “You are teasing me,” she said in irritation.
“I would say you read social situations just fine, Ashtine,” he said with a small huff of laughter. Patting the space beside him, he added, “Please sit. It would be a pleasure to spend this time with you.”
Ashtine gave a sharp nod of her chin before she lowered down beside him, digging her toes deep into the sand.
“If you are allowing me the informality of addressing you by your given name, I am going to insist you do the same for me,” he said after several quiet moments.
“What?” Ashtine asked, confused as she watched him lift a hand and begin to toy with the surf as it rolled in. Tendrils of sea water threaded between his fingers, staying with him when the waves rolled back out.
“You called me Prince Drayce earlier. Briar will do.”
“Do others call you Briar?”
“My friends do.” He turned to look at her as the water spiraled into a mini-cyclone in his palm. “I also want you to know I do not find you perplexing in the slightest.”
“You are teasing me again,” she said, averting her eyes and dragging a finger through the sand.
“Not at all, Ashtine,” he replied. “I find you to be many things, but perplexing is not one of them.”
Lifting a hand, she let a small whirlwind of air twist in her palm, matching his water cyclone. “I do not know how to respond to that.”
“There is no need to respond to it,” he answered. “Do the winds bring new murmurings that have kept you from sleep?”
“No. Only more of the same,” she sighed.
“I can see how that would keep sleep at bay.”
“Ermir told me my mother wrestled with the winds as well, but he can offer no guidance as to how she managed them.”
“Have you found anything that quiets them?”
Ashtine lowered her whirlwind to the ground, letting grains of sand join the swirling air. “They are not as loud in the libraries, but I think that is because there are no windows or doors. It keeps them somewhat contained. Or perhaps I am simply reaching for some semblance of reprieve.”
“Did you find a reprieve when you came here tonight?” Briar asked, back to letting his magic wind between his fingers, small droplets landing on the sand as it moved.
“Not particularly. Not until—”
She cut herself off, because even she could recognize how inappropriate that sounded. How it was something that shouldn’t be entertained.
That couldn’t be entertained.
“Until what?” Briar asked.
“There is no hiding from the winds,” she answered instead. “What are you running from this night, Prince?”
“Briar,” he corrected with a small smile.