“Then at least stop kissing him!” she admonished. “Just try to keep your relationship one of simple friendship. That shouldn’t be asking too much, as I doubt you have many opportunities to be alone with him.”
I couldn’t help but smile, knowing how wrong she was. I quickly changed the subject before she could begin to quiz me about the where and when of the times Narian and I had kissed.
“So tell me about the romance you seem to have under way with Temerson.”
It was finally my sister’s turn to blush, and despite the undercurrent of tension recent events had created, we spent the next half hour pleasantly discussing the young man in her life.
I left Miranna’s quarters shortly thereafter, longing to take advantage of my lack of a bodyguard and the freedom it provided with a brief stroll outside, but the rain had continued to drizzle down Miranna’s windows while we had conversed. Nonetheless, I did not want to return to my rooms, so I chose to visit the main floor’s eastern wing, perhaps to find my mother in her drawing room. As I came down the hall, I heard the creak of the chapel door ahead. Thinking the Queen had gone to pray (and recognizing that I might benefit as well from a consultation with our Lord), I went to the heavy doors and laid my hand upon one, an instant away from pushing it open. I stopped cold when I heard not my mother within, but London’s troubled voice. After glancing back down the deserted hall, I leaned my ear to the crack.
“For the moment, Narian wants to remain in Hytanica, but we must contend with the possibility that he will return to Cokyri once he accepts that he cannot be with Alera.”
“I take it you do not trust him.” It was Destari who responded.
“No, I don’t. I think he stays only because of his interest in her. He really has no other ties to Hytanica. He is alienated from his family and has turned down Cannan’s offer to enroll in the Military Academy.”
“And if he tries to leave, what do we do?”
“If he tries to return to Cokyri…” London trailed off, and I strained to hear more, daring to open the door an inch so I could peer at the two guards through the gap. An ominous silence hung until London continued, “We must be prepared to take drastic measures. Even the most drastic of all. We must be prepared to end his life, if necessary, to preclude his return. Would you be willing to do that, knowing that we could be accused of murder? Knowing that we could be hanged for our actions?”
“My duty is to protect Hytanica, and I will do so even if it means I forfeit my life,” Destari avowed without hesitation.
“Good. But let’s pray it does not come to that.”
The two men clasped arms before going their separate ways, and I dashed into the Music Room, where I sank to the floor, horror-struck at what I had overheard. Not wanting Destari to search for me, but knowing that he would soon learn that I was out and about the palace, I willed my racing blood to slow and attempted to regain some semblance of composure. After several gulps of air, I slipped into the corridor, driving my fingernails into my palms in the hope that physical pain would hold my anger and despair in check. As I reached the second floor, feeling as though my world were awry, I saw Destari coming toward me.
“Alera,” he said pleasantly, “I just came to find you.” As he took in my ashen complexion, a peculiar look crossed his face. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I’m fine. My mother just wanted to talk to me for a minute.”
I ground out the necessary lie without stopping, continuing past him with my eyes focused straight ahead. Although he fell into step with me, I chose to ignore him until we reached my quarters.
“I won’t be in further need of you tonight.” I turned toward him, my voice brittle. Before he could respond, I entered my parlor, slamming the door in his bewildered face.
I sought the sanctuary of my bedroom, tears stinging my eyes. Too disturbed to sit, I paced around and around the room, frenetic energy coursing through me as I railed against Destari and London in my head. Once my rage subsided, fear for Narian clutched at me, and my breathing became fast and shallow. Certain that my rib cage was attempting to crush my lungs, I sank onto my bed, feeling dizzy and trying to control the panic that threatened to immobilize me. Then anger again blazed white-hot, scorching my insides, as a sense of betrayal stole over me at how callously London and Destari had conceived of their plan. I stood and resumed my pacing, my temples throbbing.
For the first time in my life I wanted to throw and break something, but what I really wanted to break was not an object, but the prejudice that kept London from seeing Narian as he really was. As my anger turned to despair, I sat again on my bed, twining my fingers, the emotional battle within tearing me apart. Just when I thought I could endure no more, my torment poured itself out in a rain of tears, and I fell sobbing against my pillow.
I slept fitfully that night and my efforts in the morning to control my emotions were fruitless, as I obsessed over what I had heard the men discussing in the library. I sent for London, and by the time he entered my parlor, I was pacing, my feet almost burning a path in the rug that lay in front of the sofa. Before he could open his mouth, I attacked him.
“I was in the East Wing last night and heard every word you said to Destari. How can you possibly suggest taking Narian’s life?”
My hands were shaking and I tottered on the edge of hysterics as I advanced on him.
“Sit down and calm down, Alera,” he said, instinctively taking control.
I shook my head, then continued, my whole body atremble.
“He is innocent in all of this! He did not choose his destiny any more than I chose to be Crown Princess. Our situations are but accidents of birth!” I was almost screeching as my emotions stretched taut my vocal cords. “Narian will not return to Cokyri. You do not know him as I do, and are grievously misjudging him. He is our friend and wants only the best for me and for Hytanica.”
“Perhaps you are right,” London said, alarmed at my excited state. “Now, come and sit down, and we can talk about this.”
I took a shuddering breath, somewhat calmer in the aftermath of my outburst, and permitted him to lead me to the sofa. I sat, not feeling the least bit friendly toward him, and watched with narrowed eyes as he settled beside me.
“Destari and I were discussing an option of last resort if we need to prevent Narian’s return to Cokyri. If I am wrong about him, then neither you nor he has anything to fear.”
My hysteria subsided as London spoke, but my hurt did not. We sat in silence as he continued to let my dark emotions drain away. After a long moment, he made his position known.
“You must understand, Alera, that I am a soldier of Hytanica and a member of the King’s Elite Guard. I have sworn an oath to protect the King and the people of this kingdom, and I will take whatever action is necessary to do so.”
I gaped at him, feeling as though I no longer knew him.
“We have nothing more to discuss,” I said coldly, dismissing him.
London shook his head in frustration, then stood and strode from the room.
As news of Cokyri’s brutal assault spread, the holiday celebrations came to an end. The victims of the slaughter had been buried in several mass graves, and panic now permeated the overcrowded city. Panic turned to terror once it became clear over the following few weeks that Cokyri’s strategy would be to contain us and starve us into submission, as no one, not even Hytanica’s soldiers, could leave the city and safely return. Men who were sent to Gourhan, Emotana and Sarterad in search of aid were restored to us as corpses. The dreary, and often rainy, view from my balcony now included Cokyrian soldiers moving about our lands, and at night I could see the fires from their encampments.
In an attempt to make the city’s provisions last as long as possible, the King had ordered an inventory of food supplies and had instituted rationing. Cannan, for his part, frequently met with his troop commanders, belaboring strategies to retake the land between the city and the Recorah River. We would be in desperate need of supp
lies come spring…if we could last that long.
Security at the palace had, of course, been tightened, and the social activities that would normally have been held at this time of year, including my mother’s holiday party for the young nobles, had been cancelled.
During this tense time, Narian resumed his late-night visits, eluding his guards by climbing out his window and across the roof to drop down onto my balcony. At first, he would stay but a brief time, as it gave us a chance to talk freely. As the weeks passed, he stayed for longer periods, and we would often sit together in front of the fireplace in my parlor, watching the flames dance while the cold January rain drummed against the windows.
There was now a persistent voice in my head telling me to put an end to these secret meetings, but I could not bring myself to do so, for I enjoyed Narian’s company more than anyone else’s. I also could not deny my feelings and end my physical relationship with him. My resolve melted every time I looked into his eyes. I chose to live purely in the present, refusing to acknowledge the passage of time and its unrelenting march toward my eighteenth birthday.
On a clear night at the end of the month, Narian helped me escape the palace just as he had once before. He again secured a horse for our use, and we rode for a time on the military training field, Narian familiarizing me with the common gaits employed by a horse—walk, trot and canter. Then we sat peacefully on the hill that sloped down to the field, gazing at brightly burning stars rather than at smoldering fireplace embers.
While sneaking me out of the palace had not posed a problem for him, returning me to my quarters did represent a challenge. Given the increased security at the palace, we could not expect to pass unquestioned through the front gates as morning approached. Narian, of course, had already given this problem due consideration and had fashioned a harness of sorts, which he used to assist me to scale the courtyard wall and climb up to my balcony.
After we returned to my bedroom, Narian waited while I changed out of the black clothing he had again brought for me. Upon reentering my room from the bath chamber, I brought the garments to him, as I dared not keep them lest my maid discover them and the resulting gossip reach the ears of my mother, my guards, Kade, Cannan or the King.
“I should go,” Narian said, placing the items in his pack. “The sun will be up soon and then it will be impossible for me to climb unseen over the roof.”
I nodded, sinking into his arms. We kissed, and as he ran his hands through my tangled hair and down my back, drawing me against him, a thrill swept through my body. It was becoming more difficult to part from him on these nights, and I knew he felt the same. He remained a gentleman, however, and took a step back, opening the balcony doors to depart. I stepped outside with him and he gave me one last kiss before bending down to pick up the harness and rope.
“My things,” he said, bewildered. “They’re not here.”
I, too, scanned the balcony floor, but the items were gone.
“Looking for these?” said a man from the shadows behind us.
I jumped and whirled about to see London leaning against the palace wall, Narian’s harness and rope in his hand. My heart dropped to my feet, for I knew we were now in serious trouble.
“Inside, both of you,” London commanded, and we complied, neither of us daring to speak, for there was really nothing to be said that would excuse our actions.
London followed, closing the balcony doors, then he brought his eyes to bear upon me.
“Tomorrow we will board shut these doors, as they seem to be letting in too much cold night air. I wouldn’t want you catching a chill.”
“London, I know what this must look like—”
“Don’t,” he said, cutting off my meager attempt to explain.
Then he spoke to Narian through gritted teeth. “You will come with me. And we will leave the proper way, through the parlor door.” With a scowl, he again addressed me, and I cringed in the face of his rage. “You, Alera, will stay here. I will discuss your behavior with you later.”
He opened my bedroom door and pushed Narian through it, slamming it shut behind him. I lingered by the threshold to listen, as I knew Narian had taken offense at London’s handling, and I was certain he would be unreceptive to London’s reprimand. It was but a minute before I heard a scuffling sound and a thump as someone’s back slammed against a wall.
“You will keep away from Alera or you will deal with me,” London growled.
“Do you really think I would find you to be a worthy opponent?” Narian’s voice was low but steady.
“You will find me to be much more dangerous than anyone else you have met in Hytanica.”
There was silence, and I imagined London and Narian staring at each other, each sizing up his adversary.
“Now, we will proceed out the door, and you will return directly to your quarters, and I had better not catch further sight of you today.”
I heard the two of them step into the corridor, leaving me alone in the unsympathetic darkness.
London waited until late afternoon to discuss my early-morning excursion with me. I suspected he had purposefully left me to stew over my actions all day as a sort of punishment. He entered my quarters with a carpenter, whom he directed to my bedroom with instructions to board shut the balcony doors. As the man undertook the task, London rested his back against the wall that separated the parlor and the bedroom, arms crossed, eyeing me critically. I sat on the edge of the sofa, head pounding in rhythm with the carpenter’s hammer, wishing this would all soon be over.
After the craftsman had gone, a most uncomfortable silence reigned, until London, still leaning against the wall, opened the subject.
“Explain yourself to me, if you can.”
“I don’t believe I have to do so,” I said, attempting to stand up to him.
“Then perhaps I should take you to your father,” he responded, and my bravado deflated.
“London, say what you will to me, but I beg you not to tell my father.”
He cocked an eyebrow derisively and I felt compelled to continue.
“I have no excuses,” I said. “I simply wanted to spend time with Narian alone, and…these late-night meetings…just developed.”
Even as I spoke, I knew my words sounded ludicrous.
“I don’t understand you,” London snarled, shaking his head. “Both Destari and I have warned you to stay away from him and yet you do not heed us. You place your faith where it has not been earned. You ignore your upbringing and demonstrate no sense of propriety or respect for tradition. You recklessly endanger your life without thought for those who care about you. In short, you act like a child, and at seventeen that can no longer be tolerated.”
London’s disapproval cut me, and I examined my fingers as I twined them in my lap, unable to bring myself to look at him. Pushing away from the wall, he came to stand in front of me.
“Look at me, Alera.”
I raised my eyes, which brimmed with tears, to his face, cheeks burning with shame.
“Are you in love with him?” he asked, voice more sympathetic.
“Yes,” I replied, tears now tumbling freely.
He dropped to one knee before me, indigo eyes dark with concern.
“We cannot control our hearts, but we must control our minds and bodies. You cannot marry him, Alera. It is best that you keep away from him, so that these feelings will gradually lessen.”
“You don’t understand,” I choked, feeling as if the air were being sucked from my lungs. “I must seek my father’s permission to marry Narian. My happiness lies with him.”
“Do not bring this to your father, for no good can come of his knowing. Now listen carefully. Hytanica cannot have a king with divided loyalties. We have fought far too long and sacrificed too much in our effort to prevent Cokyri from conquering our people. We cannot let them conquer us insidiously, through the domination of our ruler.”
“It is not your opinion that counts,” I retorted, wiping away my tea
rs, not wanting to concede that he was right.
London stood, running a hand through his untidy hair.
“Then your father will need to have all the facts to make such a decision. I once said that the time would present itself when your father should know about the Legend of the Bleeding Moon and Narian’s destiny. It would appear that time has come.”
“My father will not care about Narian’s past. My father will judge him on who he is now, and who he can become in the future.”
While I wanted to believe my own words, I did not need London to contradict them, for no one was as paranoid as my father about the dangers posed by Cokyri. I felt as though I were drowning, only this time London was not throwing me a rope.
“None of us can completely escape our pasts,” he said.
“Then perhaps I will give up my claim to the throne so that I may be with Narian,” I dared to put forth.
“Your father still would not permit the marriage.”
I stared at London, tears again welling in my eyes as some part of me knew he spoke the truth. I watched in misery as he moved toward the door, then intercepted him with a question.
“How did you know?”
He frowned, as if deciding whether I deserved to be told, but then gave a candid reply.
“I’ve been noticing for some time that you and he seem exhausted on the same days, and any fool could see from the way you look at each other that you are more than acquaintances. I started monitoring Narian’s movements and last week discovered his remarkable talent for climbing over the roof. Then I simply waited for him to pay you another visit.”
As I listened, I had a new appreciation for London’s shrewdness and abilities, and understood better than ever what would make him dangerous if he were an opponent.
“If his actions hadn’t been so inappropriate, I would have been impressed,” he concluded.
I held back my despair until after London’s departure, then curled up on the sofa and cried in earnest.