Chapter 12
“Sails! Sails on the horizon!”
Katarine heard the shout of the watch as the alarm bell rang. She had been pacing the parapet since dawn. She knew it was early to expect him to return, but her chieftain of the Clan of Wind was nothing if not efficient.
She had spent five lonely nights in bed, wishing this entire contest were already over and the man who had firmly captured her heart was already by her side. She focused on the sails.
Soon. Soon, he will be here.
“More sails!” the watch shouted, and Katarine saw the faint outline of the second rigging.
Excellent. Two safe. That was perfect. Now, only one to go.
Katarine joined the onlookers on the beach, who were cheering as the first boat navigated the reef.
Is it him?
“Mother, is it Santiago?” Brolin asked as he jumped and cheered with the others.
“We shall see,” she replied, but she knew in her heart that it was.
As soon as she could see his face, her knees went weak with relief. She dropped to them and thanked God for his safe return.
“My Queen,” Lila helped her to stand. “Your dress.”
“A dress is nothing compared to the relief of them returning safely after such a daunting task.”
“Of course, My Queen,” Lila said as she brushed the sand away.
“It’s him! It’s him!” Aestus yelled, and Brolin cheered.
Men and children ran into the water to drag the sloop closer to shore.
Santiago looked weathered, but hale and hearty … and never more handsome than at that exact moment.
He vaulted from the boat and landed in waist-deep water. He strode to her and dropped to his knees on the sand before her.
“My Queen, I return from St. Sela with a token of my devotion to you. But in truth, the true gift I offer you is my heart. It is yours.”
Her breath caught as he declared himself in front of the entire crowd of onlookers.
Women sighed, and men clapped as he held out a stunningly beautiful, translucent shell that could only have come from the beaches of St. Sela. Her mother had had a necklace made from them, collected by her father’s hand on his trek to prove himself worthy of her.
The beauty of the gesture and his words had her bowing before him as she accepted his gift.
“I accept both with undying gratitude, sir. It is a privilege and an honor.”
He pressed a kiss to her hand as she closed it around the shell.
“Thank God you are safe,” she added. “That is truly the greatest gift.”
He looked up at her with salt spray on his skin and emerald eyes shining.
“I love you. I will always come back to you, My Queen,” he said quietly, yet Lila sighed beside her.
“Thank you. I …” She wanted to say I love you too, but instead, she added in a whisper, “I pray you always come back to me.”
He produced two more shells from his pocket. “And for the young princes, gifts as well.”
“For us?” Brolin’s young voice went high-pitched with excitement.
Katarine’s heart melted as he placed one in the hands of each of her sons. He was a good man.
“Now that is a fine gesture,” Freen said as Katarine caught him beaming over her shoulder.
“He appears to be struggling with the reef,” a voice called from the crowd on the beach. “Men, prepare to help him if he swamps the boat.”
Santiago stood and turned as Katarine looked out over the water.
“Is that the prince?”
“Yes, but I do not believe he touched the shore,” Santiago replied. “I believe he turned to sail back as soon as he spotted land on the horizon. I cannot confirm my suspicions, so it does not matter. I just don’t understand why he would not follow the rules and instead risk disqualification.”
“Because the rules don’t apply to him,” Katarine said quietly, feeling hope blossom in her chest. “I have met many men like the prince. They feel rules are beneath them. We shall see what he brings from St. Sela—or purports to bring.”
With everyone’s attention on the boat, Katarine dared to lean close to Santiago. “I am just grateful you are here.”
“No matter what happens, My Queen, you cannot marry him. Even if it is not me, you deserve better than that shallow, arrogant man.”
She rested a shoulder against Santiago’s heat beside her.
“We will save your suspicions for when they are needed and pray they are not.”
“My heart is yours. That was not an overstatement for effect.” He reached down to squeeze the hand that was clutched around the shell.
“I know, and mine is yours as well.” She glanced up to meet his gaze. “I love you, Santiago. A few more days, and I pray it is you standing by my side as king.”
“Don’t touch my boat! I can do this myself!” the prince snarled at those who had rushed into the water to help him make landfall.
His boat was full of water, moments away from sinking. A final wave pushed it toward shore, and he jumped out and nearly lost his balance.
Santiago didn’t move away from her, and Katarine felt him infusing his strength within her through the hand that gripped hers.
It felt so right to have him at her side, as her partner. Her rock. Her confidant. Surely, nothing had ever felt more perfect in her life. And yet it was not final, no matter how much she wished it were so.
The prince stumbled up the shore, weary-looking from his journey.
“To the victor go the spoils. You haven’t won yet, barbarian. Unhand her. I don’t need my future queen defiled by your touch.”
He is awful. That is truly the only word for it.
“Have you brought a token from the shores of St. Sela for our queen?” Freen asked, ignoring the prince’s ugly words.
“Of course,” he said, and instantly, Katarine knew he was lying. It was blatant, like one of her children before they learned to own their mistakes.
He took a small pouch from around his neck and held it out to her. He did not bow. He did not use any of the pretty manners she knew he had been trained to display his whole life.
Well, apparently, a six-day sail shows the true man.
Katarine did not want to release Santiago’s hand, so she reached with her other hand to accept the pouch. But she realized quickly that she could not open it without both hands. Understanding the dilemma she faced, Santiago let her go, and she opened the flap and pulled the contents free.
A ruby. Cut precisely in the shape of a heart.
“I don’t understand. How did this come from St. Sela?”
“It didn’t. Nothing on that deserted island is fit for a queen. I brought that prize from the Land of Fire.”
“I am afraid that disqualifies you from the contest, Prince of Kydon. The rules were quite clear,” Freen said as he stepped forward.
“I came from the island, so that is gift enough. The gift of my safe return.”
“You misunderstand, Prince. The token was to confirm you made landfall. Without it, we have no such confirmation,” Freen added.
“Your rules are silly. I am here. I almost beat the winner, who no doubt made landfall as he is the type of man to follow orders given by a woman.”
Katarine had no idea what to say or do, but the hope that had bloomed within her was growing. Perhaps I have just been saved from him by his own arrogance.
“This is quite a breach of our contest rules, as clearly stated, Prince of Kydon. You have disqualified yourself from the final day of the contest,” Freen said. “Thank you for participating, but you may not proceed further.”
“I will finish this contest,” the prince declared. “And when I am king, you will wish you had not spoken so to me.”
Freen’s bushy white eyebrows rose. “I am sorry, Prince. That is impossible. You cannot be king now. You blatantly disregarded the rules, and therefore, you are clearly disqualified.”
With lightning-fast action, the prince pulled a blade and held it to her adviser’s throat.
Katarine inhaled sharply as he spoke. “I will be king, or your blood will spill on this beach today, old man.”
Before the last syllable was out, her guardsmen had him surrounded, but Santiago didn’t wait. With a single movement, his foot came up in a swift kick between the prince’s legs, and the blade fell from his fingers as he doubled over in pain.
Freen jumped back as the blade sank into the sand.
“Well, I never …” one guardsman said.
“He deserved it. He’s a cheat and a bully,” another replied.
Her second-in-command guardsman pulled the prince’s arms behind his back.
“You have two choices. Jail and trial for attempted murder in Kataria or banishment for life.” Katarine’s voice was strong and steady as she made her pronouncement in accordance with their laws.
“Banish him!” the crowd yelled.
“You bitch! We will take your land from you, and you will be my slave!” The prince yelled.
“My Queen, may I make a suggestion to safeguard your lands?”
Katarine turned toward Santiago. “Yes, by all means.”
“Banish him for life, but deliver him to the City of Tents. Let them deal with him.”
“I told them to kill every barbarian they found, not enslave you. You should be dead.” The prince spat at Santiago’s feet.
Katarine was amazed when Santiago made not a single move to retaliate, even in the face of such disrespectful provocation.
He already is a king at heart.
“What say you, Prince?” Katarine asked. “You have proven by your words that we cannot, with wisdom, set you free just beyond our shores. But we will happily sail you to the City of Tents to find your way home from there. Or face a trial for your actions.”
“Get me out of here. A land ruled by a woman? It’s a joke.”
“Guards, place him in secure holding. Prepare for a journey when it is safe. We await the captain’s return first.”
“He will be at least a day. I saw him on my return,” Santiago said.
“Excellent. Now, take this man away. I do not wish him to appear in my presence again.”
“Fucking whore. He’s already had you. I know it!”
The crowd cheered as he was taken away by the guards, and one began a chant that others quickly joined. “Santiago for king!”