Behind The Wooden Door (11 page)

“You hired me to fight a war. That’s what I’m doing,
Your Highness.
” Sarcasm dripped from every syllable of Tristan’s last words. “Sometimes it takes an unorthodox attack to win. I did what needed to be done.”

“This is my war, not yours! I don’t give a damn what you thought needed to be done! I am your king and–”

Tristan laughed. “You are
not
my king. You’re nothing more than my patron. You hired me and my men because we are the best. Your way was leading us to failure, so I decided to do things my way. I always win,” Tristan said. He stepped closer to my father like he was sizing up a combat opponent.

My father shrank away as if Tristan’s words were poison.

“If you lose this war, Aissur,” my father said as he lifted the shaking blade between his body and Tristan’s. “You’ll get nothing from me. You nor your men will see even a glint of sunlight reflecting off my gold.”

Tristan never batted an eye. My father’s breathing came out in ragged pants like he’d been running. He didn’t sheath his blade even when he turned his back on Tristan and stormed through the camp.

Tristan laughed quietly under his breath. “Your father is an idiot.”

I didn’t laugh, though. If he thought Tristan was a threat to Rattonim’s victory, he’d take action. My father may not have it in him to ram a blade through someone, but he didn’t squirm watching someone else do it for him. Who would question him if he said Tristan died in battle? He was a soldier after all.

Tristan cleared his throat. “Do you have an answer yet?”

I didn’t have to ask what he meant, but I didn’t have an answer either. Not fully.

“Tristan, I want to be with you, but–”

“But what, Lanie? What the hell do you have to say no about?”  It amazed me how quickly his temper could flare up.

“But I don’t want to be a runaway whore to an assassin!” I was almost ashamed at my words, but that’s what my father would classify me as. My entire kingdom would think as poorly of me as they did my mother. She never ran though. Even with the snide comments and hateful glares. She had held her head high until the moment they cut it off.

“Then don’t be my whore,” he said sharply. “We can get married. We’ll find someone you can trust, finalize our marriage, and leave.”

Married. Being married was for people like Scarlett Dyn, not me. But the thought of spending the rest of my life without Tristan was heartbreaking. I had never wanted a lifetime being someone’s wife, but I hadn’t known Tristan either.

Chill bumps consumed my arms as a cold breeze drifted through the trees. I would be stupid to refuse him, and I knew that, but something held me back. I told myself it was living a peasant’s life, that I wasn’t going to be his whore, or simply that I was too scared to leave the familiarity of my home, but all of that was a lie. Something loomed deep inside of me that refused to let me leave. The war was not yet over, and Rattonim needed me. I had to see this to the finish.

“Commander!” a soldier yelled from somewhere behind us.

Tristan’s body froze when he looked up. His eyes focused intently on something in the distance. I turned to see what he was staring at, and my body went cold.

A flag of black and blue waved in the wind. Artair’s man didn’t look at any of us as he made his way up the stairs of my castle and through the large doors.

CHAPTER 15

I paced relentlessly outside of the throne room. My father and Artair’s messenger had been inside for more than an hour with the door closed. The suspense of it all was killing me.

The silk of my dress swished as I moved back and forth in front of the door. I counted the inconstant swish-swish to try to calm the anxiousness that bubbled in my chest.

Two hundred thirty-eight. Two hundred thirty-nine. Two hundred forty.

The door opened. I stopped instantly at the sight of my father and the man in the Norric uniform. They shook hands and the man walked passed me like I was invisible.

“Lanie!” My father grabbed both my arms and smiled. “Find your best dress and prepare for a celebration tonight! This war is over!”

He gave me no time to reply, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t find any words to say. I should have been happy. We were at peace for the first time in over a month, but I didn’t want this peace.

My father left my side and pushed through the doors of the castle once more. I didn’t follow him to Tristan this time, though. I couldn’t bear to see the look upon his face when my father announced that he was no longer needed here.

I moved through the corridor in a trancelike motion and didn’t stop until I reached the dead garden. I didn’t know what to do. The war was over, and Tristan would leave. I had to give him my answer tonight, for tomorrow night he’d be gone.

The dead tree limbs hung over me like the claws of a monstrous falcon. The yellow grass crunched beneath my feet as I made my way to the stone bench.

“What do I do?” I whispered into the air.

I plucked a decayed flower stem from the ground and twirled it between my fingers. “If you can hear me mother, please,
please,
tell me what I should do.”

One by one I pulled the last few petal
s from the stem and dropped them to the ground. Go with Tristan. Stay in Rattonim. Go. Stay. Go. Stay…

Go.

I placed the brown stem on the bench and sighed. The flower had spoken. I would go with Tristan to whatever unknown, foreign land he took me. It was time to tell the assassin he would leave this war with a wife.

The large black tent was more inviting that the castle had ever been. Or maybe it was just the person who waited inside. I pushed past the flap, but Tristan wasn’t there. The tent had very little inside. A small table with a candle. The coarse blanket I had slept under many nights. And a book I’d never seen before.

I bit my lip and glanced at the entrance of the tent. It remained still. I lit the candle and held the book close to the flickering flame. It contained not words but pictures. Most pages were of him and Tommy. Some were them as children. Some as they were now. I continued to flip through the pages until I landed on one of a woman. Even crudely sketched with charcoal, she was beautiful. More beautiful than any woman I’d ever seen.

Anger, sickness, and hurt filled my chest. I wanted to rip the page from its binding and light it aflame.

“Lanie?”

I froze.

Tristan held the flap of the tent open and stared at me. “What’re you doing?” he asked and came toward me.

The book was still opened to the page of the woman. He looked at her face then ran his fingers through his hair. He sighed once and sat down.

“She,” he said and pointed to the picture in my hands, “was my mother. She died during the plague. Not much before Cormac’s wife died. It was about a year after my father…passed away.”

Relief flooded me. I felt ridiculous for even being angry to begin with. I closed the book quickly and joined him on the ground.

“I have my answer,” I said as I slid my hand into his.

“And?”

I smiled and leaned my head against his shoulder. “When is the soonest we can leave?”

He laughed and leaned in and kissed me. “I was almost certain you were going to say no. What changed your mind?”

I thought it best to not tell him a dead flower had decided my fate with him. “Does it matter?”

“No,” he said and stroked my hair. “We’ll leave tomorrow night.”

“No sooner?” I asked. I tried to hide my disappointment, but it seeped through regardless.

“If you and I just disappeared tonight, your father would know you left with me. He’d then track and us down and force you to return here,” he replied calmly like he wasn’t planning my escape with his soldiers. “And I told you we’d get married. Besides, don’t we have a ball to attend tonight?”

Music drifted through the air and up to the balcony where I stood looking down at the ballroom. The girls’ ball gowns swayed perfectly in tune with the music as they danced with their lovers. It was a mass of colors. Reds, blues, gold, pastels. Everyone moved in unison as if their bodies were one.

My father sat in the front of the room on his throne and watched with a malicious smile plastered on his face. The dancers made sure not to dance to close to his throne almost as if afraid he was a beast waiting to devour them.

Tonight would be my last night here. My last ball to attend. I should have felt more nostalgic, but all I could think of was my future with Tristan.

“Hello, Princess.”

I turned away from the scene of royalty and dancing, to my soldier. He wore not his normal attire of black bloodstained clothing but a long white shirt and black vest and pants. His hand jumped to his hair as he inhaled deeply and looked around the brightly lit balcony.

“This
isn’t exactly what I’m used to, Lanie,” he said.

I smiled. “You’ll blend in perfectly. You might be able to even pass as royalty.”

He shook his head and moved closer to me to look down at the party. His hands tightened on the stone railing until his knuckles turned white and his veins were visible.

“I can’t go out there with you. You were born into this life, not me. And there’s your father to think about,” he said. “What would he do if he saw us together? It’s too risky.”

I wrapped my hand around his arm. “Then we’ll go somewhere else.”

He smiled and led me away from the balcony, down the steps, and out of the castle. The music floated out of the windows of the castle and into the garden. The starlight glistened above us like diamonds.

Tristan bowed and offered me his hand. I smiled and curtsied before giving him mine.

He pulled me close and whispered, “I’ll have to be honest with you, Princess…I’ve never been one for dancing.”

I buried my face against his chest. “Will you try?”

Within minutes our bodies were in sync with the slow music coming the flutes and drums of the pipers. The bottom of my dress drug against the decayed grass and snagged on the thorns of the rose bushes, but I didn’t care. In that moment nothing mattered. Not the dead men. The looming goodbye to all I’d known. Just Tristan, me, and this dance mattered.

A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees and chills ran down my arms. And every time we moved with the music, the brown leaves around us slowly turned green. The roses bloomed into huge blossoms. The lilies sprang out of the ground and the moon above us became full.

And there she was. She sat on the small stone bench and watched as Tristan and I danced. Her long black hair fell in layers down her auburn dress, and her silver, diamond encrusted crown shone brightly in the moonlight. Her smile was full of sadness and pride as we twirled around her and her garden.

I stopped dancing and stared at her, but she was no longer looking at me. Her gaze was over me and past the stone walls.

I turned to see what she was seeing…and suddenly wished I hadn’t. Over the stone walls, I could see blue and black flags one by one enter the castle.

I turned back to my mother, but she was gone, and so was the beauty of the garden. It was just me and Tristan. His whole body tensed as he watched my cousin’s flags enter my castle.

“I thought the war was over,” I whispered as I looked up into his worried face.

“We need to get inside. Now.”

The pipers stopped playing, the dancers no longer danced, and my father was on his feet greeting Artair like an old friend. I told myself it was a dream. This could not be happening.

But it was.

My cousin’s blue and black vest shone brightly in the candlelight, and standing next to my father, he looked almost malnourished. He was no longer the little boy who sat beside me and listened to our grandfather’s stories. He was a ruler. His black hair fell around his face in a sort of elegance, and he looked uncomfortable standing beside my father.

My father saw that I had joined the throng of people. A terrifying huge smile spread across his face. “Daughter! Come join us!” he called out.

A look of pure fear was on Tristan’s face, and I hoped he’d stop me somehow, but he did not. Before the end of the night, he would wish he had, too.

I walked slowly to where my father and Artair stood. It was as if I was walking to my death and no one would save me. Every step felt more dangerous than the last.

My father pulled me into his outstretched arms and announced the worst news I could have ever imagined.

“The reason for the ball has finally arrived!” he yelled. “My daughter is going to bring peace to both Rattonim and Norric!”

Tristan’s fear turned into complete anger, and the misery on Tommy’s face was enough to make anyone afraid to stand between the two kingdom rulers.

“Prince Artair and Princess Lanie will be married by the end of this week. The war is over! And both kingdoms will forever be in harmony!”

The people of the kingdom broke into applause. But none of them seemed to see Tristan making his way closer to us with his fists clenched. No one, that is, except for Cormac.