Chapter 14 #2
“We need more air!” Stassia snaps as sparks fly once more.
“There’s plenty of air, Stass. It won’t catch if we don’t have any kindling!”
“Let me try.” Stass holds her hand out for the flint rock.
“You already did, so I can do it.” Auralie strikes again, but still no flames catch.
I stand behind them, peering over as they are crouched at the base, still bickering, and stifle a giggle. “Who knew starting a fire was so difficult?”
Both of their heads swivel to look at me, frustrated looks plastered on their faces.
“Why don’t you try then?” Stass says as she falls back onto her heels.
I throw up my hands and take a step back. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“You’ve never started a fire before?” Auralie asks, confusion written all over her face.
I shake my head. “No. The staff always had it started for me.”
“Staff?” Auralie’s head tilts as the muscle between her brows wrinkles.
Stass pins me with a stare, then her eyes widen with understanding. “Oh, gods, you weren’t kidding. When you said princess, you really meant it, didn’t you?”
The last time we were on this beach was the only time I ever spoke of being a princess to anyone other than Weston and Sig.
It was just after I fought with Weston in the tunnels, after he lied to me about who he was and used my title as a means to push me away.
Stassia noticed, and I said it. I didn’t try to hide it.
I was past holding myself back from these friends, this family, by then. But she never brought it up again.
There’s no point in hiding it anymore.
My shoulders touch my ears, and I wince slightly. “The princess of Blackwood isn’t really the one going around and lighting the fires in the castle.”
“No! You’re lying,” Stass says, her jaw falling open. “Your father is the hot king?”
I roll my eyes, and Auralie bursts into laughter. “It was so uncomfortable when you said that. Please don’t ever say it again.”
“Oh, I’m going to say it, because it is the truth.” Stass takes in the look of disgust on my face, but her grin only widens. “Why did you keep this from us for all this time?”
I shrug. “No one needed to know. I didn’t want to be treated differently because of who I was, although…” My eyes lift to find Weston, and I spot him still talking with Veck. His eyes find mine, and he smirks softly, but I turn back to the girls. “Someone didn’t agree.”
“Captain knew?” Auralie asks. “How?”
I let out a deep sigh. “It’s a long story for another day, but yes, he knew.”
“Wow,” Stassia muses as she nods slowly. “So there was more to his grumpiness than just fighting feelings. Everything makes so much more sense now.”
I nod. “But that’s why I am probably the worst person to help you with a fire.”
“Move. I can do it.” Sig walks up from behind and nudges past me, squatting between the girls.
“Not everyone here is an inexperienced princess.” She turns over her shoulder and shoots me a sly look before reaching out to shuffle some of the kindling.
Auralie stares blankly at Sig as she grabs the flint from her hand.
Sparks fly with the first strike, and Sig crouches lower, blowing gently toward the base, and coaxing the flame to life before sitting back on her heels with a satisfied grin on her face.
“Wha—” Stass gapes as she looks between us. “What the hell is going on, and why is everyone keeping secrets?”
Sig laughs loudly and stands, her hands on her hips as she watches her work literally burst into flames and engulf the gigantic pile of wood. “There’s no point in secrets anymore,” she says. “It’s not like we can go back to our kingdoms. There’s no such thing as princesses for us.”
“Tell that to Weston,” I grumble, and Sig huffs a laugh.
“I need time to process this,” Stass says, rubbing her temples as Auralie pushes to her feet, swiping the sand off her clothes.
“Well, while you process, I’m starving. I need food to focus. Let’s eat.”
Trays of food now cover the crate tables, and the suns have finally dropped below the horizon.
We pile plates high and find an empty blanket, sitting to eat and watch the freedom and happiness around us.
Fin pulls Weston into some sort of game, and Jorn is trying to convince everyone, including us, to get in the water despite the quickly cooling breeze.
About an hour after sunset, movement near the portal catches my eye, and it’s as if the air is sucked out of all of us.
Silence falls over the group and everyone stills, turning to watch Gauge step away from the rock face.
All eyes are on him as he shuffles to the sand, the same dejected look on his face as was on Taril’s; the one I know we all had.
He wasn’t worthy.
My stomach sinks. Is this only the beginning of the torment, where we find out repeatedly for the rest of the night that none of us are worthy? And if so, is it actually the best outcome since we no longer have the choice to return home?
A broad frame crossing the beach pulls my gaze, and I watch Weston approach Gauge, clapping him on the shoulder and saying something none of us can hear over the crackle of the fire and the crash of the waves.
Gauge nods solemnly, then mimics Weston’s gesture, before they both release and walk back toward the surf.
The tension of the moment bursts, and no one needs confirmation of what they already knew was coming before returning to their evening, continuing the conversations that were abruptly cut off, and the games that paused.
It’s only a matter of time now before the rest of the Voyagers trickle from the mountain.
I can’t seem to focus on the conversation, and instead look over at the portal every few moments.
“Hey,” Sig says, bumping my shoulder with hers. She must have noticed my inattentiveness or felt my anxiety. “It’ll be fine. It’s the same thing we’ve dealt with every time before.”
I let out a deep sigh. “I know. I just can’t help but have hope that at least one of us would be told yes.
Even though I’d be heartbroken that they couldn’t bring it home, I really want to know that at least one of us was deemed to have the purest intentions.
I don’t know why the island doesn’t see that. ”
Her shoulders rise and fall as her chin settles on one of them, looking toward me. “I don’t think we’ll ever know. But we can’t let it bother us for eternity. At some point we’re going to have to accept our fate.”
“Weston doesn’t want to give up,” I murmur. “I don’t know if he ever will.”
“Cap…” She pauses as she collects her thoughts. “He’s always been adamant about holding onto hope. He didn’t want to give up and have the promise of real life taken away from any of us. But I can imagine…” Her voice trails off as she chews on the inside of her cheek.
“What, Sig?”
Her chest heaves with a sigh. “I don’t want to upset you.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Just say it.”
“Fine. But don’t be mad at me, alright?”
“Promise.”
“Cap always wanted to find a way home, but it was never about himself. Everything he did was for all of us. I don’t think he saw much of a future for himself, especially after all this time.
If we ever returned home, everyone he knew would have moved on.
We had no way of knowing how much time had passed, and we didn’t know if anyone we knew would even be alive.
But things changed. He changed. I watched it happen.
I think that maybe there was more to his decision to keep looking than just to get his princess back to her kingdom. ”
Tears prick at my eyes, but I hold her gaze, even as the image of his face as he watched Fin hold my hand flashes before me. Is Sig implying Weston wanted a future with me? That he didn’t want to give up in the end, because he saw more?
I shake my head. “He kept saying we couldn’t be together because of who we were back home. He wouldn’t try harder to get back if he wanted more.”
“I know that man very well. He doesn’t talk a lot, but when he does, it isn’t necessarily what he truly thinks. Or wants. Sometimes, he says things because he’s trying to convince himself.”
A single tear escapes as I look out across the beach, my eyes drawn to him instantly.
As if he feels my stare, he looks over at me.
His smile falters and his brow furrows as he scans my face, clearly seeing the tear.
Jorn laughs beside him at something one of the boys in the group says, but Weston steps away, turning toward me and no longer hearing the conversation he was just in.
What’s wrong? he mouths. His jaw tightens, and his gaze bores into me, looking like he’s going to cross the beach toward me the moment I say I need him. I shake my head, giving him a slightly water smile.
Nothing, I mouth back, but he strides forward, halting only when I shake my head again. His head tilts to the side, and his eyebrows draw in closer.
I’m fine, I mouth again and flick my wrist to shoo him back to the group. He takes a reluctant step back and turns toward the group again, but not before sneaking another glance my way, his relaxed smile now a close-lipped line.
“See?” Sig says, and I turn back to her. “He’s different.”
“I just don’t understand. Why would he push me away for so long if deep down that’s how he truly felt? If he thought life back home would be better, why would he tell me we couldn’t be together, when here we could be?”
I swear my loyalty to her, Lennox Holt, and vow to stay by her side in whatever way she will have me.
The words settle in the pit of my stomach.
Would it actually be better back home? We would have purpose, a life to live with real experiences that we’d be denied here, but be unable to have them together?
Would we be cursed to constantly be near each other, but never able to act on the love that has grown between us?
At least not while my father was still alive.
But that could be years. It is my duty to provide the kingdom with an heir.
Would Weston stand by and watch that happen?
Would I be able to court a prince, one that would provide Blackwood with opportunity or protection, knowing that the man standing behind my father is the one I truly want?
Or could I ignore tradition, like my father did, and choose who I want?
Choose Weston?
Maybe it is better we are trapped here, so I don’t have to make that choice.
The thought makes my chest ache. There’s no right answer. There’s no better choice. Each is different, but only one thing matters.
Right here, right now, we didn’t get to choose.
“Because he’s more stubborn than you are,” Sig says, and looks up just as another Voyager steps through the portal, the same sullen look on his face.
I sneak a glance back at Weston and watch the shadows from the flames dance across his features.
This future may not be ideal. It may not be what we visualized or chose for ourselves, but we chose each other.
It’s the best future we have.