Fifteen - Mina
Fifteen
Mina
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Sam watched me leave after supper with a question in his eyes, but he said nothing. He would gather evidence before he confronted me about where I went every evening. While I knew he would search for clues about where I was going and why, I trusted he wouldn’t follow me.
Alan wasn’t at the stream, and I sent a prayer up to Affenala that it was only because I was once again early, and not because he couldn’t make it. I couldn’t even pretend that the main reason I hoped that was true was because I didn’t want Powell to suspect him. I didn’t. But mostly, I simply wanted to have the chance to talk with Alan freely again.
And maybe kiss him again.
All right, imagining kissing him again was a large part of my thoughts.
I sat on the boulder, though I wanted to pace. Better to reduce the chances of someone spotting me like Hannah had the other night. It would be terrible if Alan got away only to have someone interrupt us.
I didn’t have to wait long before I spotted him making his way along the banks of the stream. He moved quickly, his pace picking up even more when I stood and he spotted me .
I met him halfway. The moment I reached him, I gave in and wrapped my arms around his waist. It felt natural. Inevitable. “No problems getting away?”
His arms wrapped around me without hesitation, and he pressed his cheek against the crown of my head. “None. Powell’s at the tavern.”
I wanted to continue standing there, breathing in the tang of iron and supple leather. Memories of Hannah and Alan’s fear of Powell made me step back. “We should probably sit on the boulder so no one spots us.”
Alan slid his hands down my arms, lacing the fingers of his right hand with my left. “If we cross the stream and walk north a bit, there’s a willow tree right near the stream. Between the higher banks and the branches, no one would notice us.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Alan kept a hold of my hand until we reached the stepping stones near the boulder. The stairs had been placed there because of the easier crossing. Three large stones provided a relatively easy to navigate path to the other side of the stream.
Alan released me and walked across without hesitation. He treated the slick rocks the same as the pebble strewn bank.
I studied the stones and decided he’d made it look easier than it probably was. I tucked the hem of my skirt and petticoats into my belt, thankful I was wearing boots and not slick-soled, heeled court slippers. The first stone was near enough the bank that I could step onto it, but the surface was barely wide enough for one foot and left me teetering. I moved quickly, launching myself from stone to stone, trying not to slip on the sloped surfaces.
Momentum sent me three steps inland, with no recovery of balance. I slammed to a stop against Alan’s chest.
His cough sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. “I guess we should have stayed on the other side.”
I looked back at the stones. They were not that treacherous. “I think I need to commit to jumping from stone to stone right from the beginning next time. ”
“Maybe I should bring a towel, just in case.”
If I fell in, a towel wouldn’t help much with my sodden skirts. But Alan’s comment made it clear he expected us to travel to this secluded willow tree again in the future, which made me smile. Then I noticed I was still leaning against Alan, my hands flat against his chest, his resting at my waist. The same awareness of how we stood flashed through his eyes as I looked. His gaze dipped to my lips, but he didn’t move.
“We should probably keep moving,” he said, his voice a low rasp.
I nodded and stepped out of his hold. He looked down, and his cheeks flushed scarlet before he turned away, walking downstream. I frowned after him, not understanding until I took a step and remembered how I had tucked my skirts into my belt. They still hung to my knees, my stockings covering every inch of my legs below. I untucked the skirts and caught up with Alan, wondering how he’d react if he saw me in the trousers I had worn when I spent a summer on a fishing boat. That had been my favorite fashion to adopt during my travels.
The simple skirts, blouses, and bodices worn by women in Skorsa and throughout most of Nemya were still better than court fashions, though. They required no help from a maid to don and were far less restrictive. And I loved the freedom of letting my hair hang loose, confined only by a kerchief. Even the tight braid I had to rely on aboard the boat was more comfortable than the elaborate coiffures of the nobility.
“This morning you said Powell was suspicious after you talked to Cole?” I said once I reached Alan’s side. “What happened?”
“Cole needed his mare re-shod. I used to visit the farms and take care of all the horses for years while my father worked in the forge. So, I spoke up while Powell was with Cole. I lied and said we didn’t have any of the correct size shoes on hand, but really I wanted to remind Cole that I knew his horse, that I had done this before. But Powell is used to me only answering his questions, not taking any initiative. ”
“I think your gamble worked. Cole came out to see Gemma while I was with her, and he spoke about you a little bit. He said you had always been good with horses, and I think he realized that something wasn’t right. His expression reminded me of how I felt when the charm was forcing me to dismiss you, even after I had seen proof of how skilled you were.”
“Are you still struggling against the charm?”
I considered the question for a moment, thinking back over the past few days. “No,” I said slowly. “I don’t need to remind myself over and over. I must have reached some sort of critical threshold. My thoughts are too set regarding you for the charm to make an impact anymore.”
I didn’t need to keep wearing the rose ring as a reminder—though I had no plans to take it off.
“How is that even possible? Not that I’m complaining, but if you aren’t a mage, how can you overcome the power of the charm like that?”
“Will.” Animate powers—magics that affected living creatures rather than objects—were all limited by the strength of will of the person targeted. “Imagine an object-mover trying to shift the boulder back there. If it is too heavy, their magic can’t do anything. My will is too much for the charm.”
Alan stopped in front of a large willow tree. The branches formed a canopy that fell partially over the stream and hid the area near the trunk almost completely from view. He thrust an arm out, pushing a few branches aside to make a doorway. “But you were affected before.”
I stepped past him into the shadowy bower. “Before, I was only a pebble. But every time I questioned the emotions the charm engendered, I put on a little more weight. I guess a better analogy would be that I strengthened my will. Are you still fighting against feelings of despair?”
He followed me beneath the willow, letting the branches fall back into place. “Not really. It is easy to push the feelings aside. The past two days, I only had room for frustration with Powell. ”
I moved all the way to the trunk of the tree, turning so I could lean back against it. “Not worry?”
“Worry would have been for myself. I was only thinking of you.” Alan stopped close enough that he could trap me against the tree, if he wanted.
I swallowed. “I thought you were frustrated with Powell.”
His hands lifted, leaning against the willow’s trunk on each side of my head. “Because he made me miss seeing you two nights in a row.”
My hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer. There was a strange hesitancy behind Alan’s actions, a pause that came directly after each moment of boldness. He had initiated the kiss the other night, but hadn’t truly given into it until I took control. And just now, the way he had hemmed me in against the tree shouted confidence, but I knew he would back away if I didn’t pull him close.
It made me frustrated with Powell, too. If that man had never used a charm against Alan, I suspected there wouldn’t be a hesitant bone in his body.
I’d have to show him he had no reason to be nervous.
I kissed Alan, knowing that words weren’t what he needed.
He widened his stance, moving closer until my feet were between his, my back pressed against the tree trunk, my chest flush with his. Keeping his hands against the tree, he broke away from my lips and trailed kisses over my cheek, down my jaw, and to my throat. Reaching the spot where my shoulder and neck met, he sucked, his teeth scraping against me.
If there had been any room, I would have fallen, my legs no longer steady enough to keep me standing. But Alan didn’t let me fall, holding me in place against the willow. He released my throat, the brush of his breath against the damp skin sending shivers through me.
“Mina.” The word seemed torn out of him, a harsh exhalation, a curse and prayer all in one. “Gods, what you do to me. I haven’t felt like this since... ”
He trailed off, and I went cold despite the warm summer air. I ducked below his arms, stepping away from the tree. Away from him.
I was the only person in years who’d had a real conversation with Alan. The only one to speak to him without contempt. It wasn’t me Alan was drawn to; it was the uniqueness of the situation. He barely knew me.
I barely knew him.
“Since Powell used the charm the first time,” I whispered.
He spun around. “Mina, what—”
“I’ll help you with the charm, and I am happy to keep you company, but I don’t want you to kiss me just because there is no one else.”
The shadows under the willow made it hard to judge his expression, but whatever Alan was feeling wasn’t happy. “You think I kissed you because there is no one else? I don’t want anyone else.”
“Because none of the villagers have even given you a second look for years.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “I don’t blame you, Alan. I can’t imagine how that sort of isolation must feel.”
He took a step toward me. “I didn’t kiss you because you are the only person available, Mina. And you were wrong. I wasn’t going to say since Powell used the charm. I stopped because I realized I had never felt like this before. It has nothing to do with anyone else and everything to do with you.”
His lips crashed against mine, and there was nothing tentative in the way he kissed me now. This wasn’t a seduction, but a declaration of intent. I pressed my hands against his back and welcomed the onslaught. My doubts disappeared. Alan didn’t kiss me like a man who had no other options; he kissed me like a man who had made his choice.
He had chosen me. Not the woman immune to Powell’s charm. Not the princess. But me .
Alan’s hands roved over my body, and I cursed the layers that kept my skin from his. Then his fingers dipped under my shirt, under the edge of my bodice, and brushed against one hard nipple. I arched into his touch, my hands fumbling for my laces. He dragged his finger to the side, toward my other breast, but became tangled momentarily with my necklace.
The diamond charm was suddenly a shard of ice against me. I jerked back without conscious thought.
Alan’s breathing was as unsteady as my own. “I’m moving too fast, aren’t I? Sorry.”
I shook my head, my hand laying over my chest, pressing the charm into my skin. “No, I...”
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell Alan my identity. Right now, he wanted me for myself, but what would happen if I told him I was the princess? We knew so little about each other. If I waited, maybe he wouldn’t change how he treated me when he learned my real name.
But I couldn’t let us go beyond kissing with such a secret hanging between us. “I don’t have a contraceptive enchantment,” I lied, finding a reason to pull back that let Alan know how much I wished we could continue.
“Right. That makes a difference.” He glanced at the branches of the willow in the direction where we had entered. Running away was probably his standard defense mechanism, and right now he was struggling, unsure how to step back from the intensity of the past few minutes. But he didn’t flee.
He glanced around the space beneath the willow’s branches and gestured toward the trunk. “Maybe we should sit down?”
“An excellent suggestion.”