leave himself out. There was a distant expression on the king’s face which troubled Lucian. When Lysander looked at him, he tried to search his face, looking desperately for a reason for him to look into the fire that way.
“Ah, my son, I believe you are biased.” He soon turned the conversation to other things and Lucian knew his father had closed the topic without it being brought up.
Morning came and they went swimming again. Lysander showed them how to use their arrows as spears to catch the fish. “It’s harder than using a spear, but sometimes you don’t have many options,” Lysander said as he stopped a fish with seeming ease. “The biggest key is remembering that the water distorts what you see. The fish may look like it’s in one spot, but it won’t be.”
The smell of fish wafted from the fire that night, causing the already hungry stomachs to growl impatiently. At one point, Lysander said, “It’s a good thing we’ll be shopping for your new list with Mother next week. You’ve outgrown your pants.”
“I just wish I had grown more,” Lucian said. “I’m going to be the shortest person in my class.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Lysander said.
“Mithulan is still shorter than you. Or at least, he was before we left,” Adrian pointed out.
“That’s not very comforting. I’ve got to be the shortest prince on record.”
“No, you’re not. There was a prince only a few inches tall,” Lysander said.
“Dad, we all know that’s just a myth,” Lucian argued. “I bet the fairies exaggerated.”
Again, a slightly distant expression flicked across Lysander’s face. “I suppose that’s true son.”
Late that night after Adrian had fallen asleep, Lucian looked at his father. “Dad?”
“Yes son?”
Lucian hesitated. “Dad, is there something bothering you?”
“No, why do you ask?” Lysander said, though he didn’t sound as firm as he usual.
“You just have seemed preoccupied lately. I mean, you’re a better shot than I am, but you’ve been missing a lot the past couple of days. Is something wrong?”
“I’m getting older, Lucian,” he said at length. “My reflexes aren’t what they used to be.”
“Is that it?” Lucian had a feeling his father was hiding something. “You’re not that old.”
“Thanks for that assessment.”
“That’s not what I meant, Dad.”
“I know. Don’t worry about me. I’m just a bit off my game right now. It’s nothing to worry over. We all have those times in life. Now, go to sleep. We’ll be getting up early tomorrow to meet the ladies back at the castle. She’s a beautiful girl, son.”
“She is. I hope she’ll warm up to me soon.”
“She seems to be coming around.”
“Yeah, I guess. Well, good night, Dad.”
“Good night, son,” Lysander said, turning to stare at the shimmering blanket of stars above.
Late in the morning after getting camp cleaned up, they began riding towards the beach where they would be meeting the ladies. When they arrived, Lucian had barely gotten off his horse when Allegra walked up and demanded, “Prove it to her, Lucian.”
“I missed you too,” he teased.
“Lucian Alexander, this is serious,” she retorted. “Prove it right now.”
“Prove what?”
“That you’re a better swimmer than she is. She won’t believe me,” Allegra said, pointing to Moira whose arms were crossed defiantly.
“Well, Allegra, I can’t very well jump into the water in my clothes. They’ll get ruined,” he said. “Besides, why does it matter who’s the better swimmer?”
“It matters, because I happen to know you’re the best swimmer in Maltisten. There’s no way she’s a better swimmer than you are.”
“And just how long have you been arguing about this,” Lysander stepped in.
“All morning,” Moira replied, also joining the fray. “I’m sure Lucian’s a great swimmer, but I’m better than him at everything.”
Lucian felt himself blush. “You are not.”
“Really?” Moira asked, her eyebrow rising. “Name one thing you can do better than me.”
“I can hunt, shoot, fight…”
“Those don’t count. They’re things only boys do anyway.”
“Okay, I’m a better rider,” he pointed out.
Moira stammered for a bit. “That doesn’t count either. You’ve, you’ve been riding longer.”
“Well, I’ve probably been swimming longer too. I grew up in the water.”
“Children,” Lysander said quickly before Moira could say anything, “there’s an easier way to determine this. We’ll just have a race. Winner is the best swimmer. I’ll mark off the distance. Get into your bathing suits.”
Chin set at a defiant angle, Moira sneered, “I’ll enjoy beating you.”
“Try it,” Lucian snapped. He went into one of the little shacks where he could change in privacy. Calista would probably have had a fit if she’d heard him. But he wasn’t going to back down. He’d been swimming as long as he could remember. There was no way a girl raised in the country would be able to beat him on his own turf. He wouldn’t let her.
They walked to a rock Lysander was standing on near the edge of the water. “Alright, we’ll do two lengths. Touch the rock down the way and then back here. First one is the winner. Are you ready?”
“Definitely,” Moira replied.
Lucian nodded, but didn’t speak. He was focusing on the water.
“Get in position then,” Lysander said.
Preparing himself to dive, Lucian listened to the count off and on the word go, dove cleanly into the water. He knew a gentleman would give Moira a head start, but he wasn’t feeling much like a gentleman at the moment. Instead, he stroked harder. To his surprise, Moira was matching him stroke for stroke. Despite being impressed, he kept his focus on the rock ahead of them. He knew if he reached it first, he could get enough speed going to make up for her kickoff. He gave a burst of speed, reaching the rock and quickly kicking off . He couldn’t hear Allegra shouting for him on the beach, nor Moira’s mother encouraging her. All he could hear were the strokes of his arms and legs and the pounding of his heart. He could tell Moira was gaining on him and he urged his limbs to move faster. He was cutting through the water like it wasn’t even there. Just a few more strokes and he would make it to the rock. With a last ditch burst of energy he sped away from Moira and to the rock.
“We have a winner!” Lysander cried. He gave Moira a hand up and said, “Well done, Moira, not many people can challenge Lucian like that. You gave a valiant effort.”
Moira didn’t say anything, but turned to walk over to where her mother was standing on the beach with a towel.
“I’m not sure that was such a good idea, Dad,” Lucian said.
“Humility hurts sometimes, son. Don’t worry, she’ll get over it soon enough.”
Lucian nodded but didn’t speak. He walked over to Moira and her mother. “Good job, Moira. You almost caught me.”
She looked about to say something nasty, but seemed to see her mother and change her mind. In a tone that quavered with unspoken anger she replied with as much of a smile as she could muster, “I’m sure I wouldn’t have.”
Knowing when it was best to bow out, he nodded and walked over to Allegra who was squealing with delight. “I knew you’d win!”
“And you never doubted for a second, did you?”
“Of course not!”
“I just hope this will have been worth it in the end,” he said, looking where Moira was now swimming in the water away from the shallows where Lysander, Adrian, Alexandra and Lavinia were splashing. He could tell she was trying to prove to herself that she could swim just as well as Lucian.
Allegra looked thoughtful. “Oh, Lucian, I hadn’t even thought of what it might do to your relationship. But I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure in many ways she’ll respect you more now. You’re b
etter than her at something that she’s very good at.”
“How is that a good thing?” he asked.
“Because this gives you common ground. You’re both excellent swimmers. Granted, she’ll probably never forgive you for being a better swimmer, but, it’s a start,” she pointed out.
They stayed at the beach all day and late into the evening, Cook bringing their dinner out to the beach. The next morning Lavinia would go home with her children.
Lucian saw Moira sitting on her own away from the group and decided to take a chance and go talk to her. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?” he asked, looking at the sunset over the crashing waves.
Moira started and looked up. “Yeah, it is,” she replied, turning back to the waves.
“Look, I, I just wanted to say, no hard feelings about earlier, right?”
She didn’t bother looking at him. “You won, fair and square. There’s nothing for me to have hard feelings about.”
They were silent for a while and he said, “I got something for you.”
“You did?” she looked at him, a surprised blush creeping into her cheeks.
“Yeah.” He pulled out the small, pinkish-orange shell from his pocket. “I wish it was both halves, but I thought you might like to have it. It’s a rare clam that only lives here in our waters. You have to keep it out of the sunlight, or the colors will fade. But if you keep it somewhere it won’t get bleached by the sun, it’ll stay that bright forever, like a sunset that never ends.”
He handed Moira the shell and she looked at it in the fading light. “It’s lovely, but don’t you want to keep it?”
“Me? Oh, no. I’ve already got one.” He hoped that she wouldn’t be able