He’d probably reject her, on principal alone. She thought about turning back; it was probably a pointless trip. But as much as she knew that would be the smart choice, she still found herself standing outside his tent.
“Master Hendel,” she whispered. The tent flap remained closed. For a brief moment, she considered pulling it back and walking in. Then she scolded herself for considering such impropriety.
Who did she think she was, Emariya?
Jessa had just resigned herself to turning away when the flap lifted, revealing Blaine’s grin. “I was hoping you’d come.”
Jessa’s heart melted. “I’m glad you’re back safe.”
Blaine moved aside, inviting her in.
“I can’t come in there alone with you,” Jessa whispered furiously, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
“Why not?” Blaine asked, feigning ignorance.
“It wouldn’t be right!” she hissed.
“Jessa, if we are going to do this...there is nothing proper about our situation.”
Her jaw dropped. “Our situation?”
Blaine’s eyes clouded. “Have I misjudged? I thought... I thought there was something between us.
Or that there could be.”
“Are you saying you’d like to court me?” Jessa tried to keep the eagerness out of her voice. A proper lady would not be so blatant.
He chuckled, a deep, amused sound. “Despite what I might like to do, yes, what I’m saying is that I’d like to court you, I suppose. If you’re agreeable.”
“Even though I’m a—”
Blaine interrupted, “Beautiful, unspoken-for woman?”
“That’s not what I was going to say!” Jessa blushed. In her entire life, no man had ever spoken to her this way. Years of her mother’s upbringing told her to be wary, that this was the wrong way to go about this. But in that moment, his words sounded so right to her ears.
“Stubborn and too worried over right and wrong to listen to your instincts?”
Had he heard her thoughts? She realized she was losing control of the situation, and being far too agreeable. “Why, I never—”
Once again Blaine interrupted. “Never been kissed? Let’s remedy that.”
And before she could protest, he did.
His lips, which she thought might be the softest thing she’d ever felt, brushed hers. Her mind scrambled, trying to reconcile his rough, occasionally abrasive exterior with this softness. As much as she didn’t want to, Jessa turned her head away, ending the kiss before it really began.
Blaine let out a loud, irritated sigh. “Why don’t you come in, we’ll talk about it.”
“We could take a walk,” Jessa offered, breathless.
Blaine’s expression, so welcoming and kind a moment before, hardened. “Let me try and understand this. You want me to put aside my notions, and the notions of my father, that courting a servant is not acceptable. Yet you aren’t willing to put aside the notion that you shouldn’t come into my tent? I’m not asking for anything untoward, Jessa. I just want you to come in out of the cold.”
She wavered for a moment too long.
“Fine. You let me know when you decide that you are willing to think for yourself, and care more about me than what everyone else thinks. Are all you Eltar women this stubborn?” The tent flap dropped closed, leaving Jessa outside and alone.
Garith watched Emariya leave the central campfire with her grandmother, heading toward a cluster of tents.
He sighed, resigning himself to many more nights spent around a campfire. The walls of Damphries rose up, taunting him. What he wouldn’t give to be inside the estate, perhaps having drawn himself a bath. His ribs ached more than he would like to admit. Terin had been vicious in her attempts to free herself.
Growing up, he’d been in his share of fights and scuffles with the other boys his age around the estate. Usually, they involved Emariya. Someone would make a comment, ridiculing that she spent so much time with him, and he’d feel the need to defend her honor. That was only one of the taunts, but he’d always known it stemmed from jealousy. As generous and compassionate as Riya was, she was still Council-born and while she would often offer them a kind word, a warm smile, or a passing pleasantry, they could never hope to seek her friendship. That unexpected honor had been reserved for him, and he’d never failed to realize how lucky he was.
He’d also occasionally cursed that luck, lamenting the love of a girl who could never be his. But no matter how many fights he’d been in, none had bruised him the way today’s had. Not only had he been bested by a girl, he’d failed his best friend.
No matter how many times he replayed the last few moments with Terin inside Damphries, he couldn’t think of any way to change the outcome. There were some nights he indulged in believing if Emariya and Torian hadn’t been subject to the pull of the Stones, he might have had a chance. In the light of day, he knew that thought was fruitless, pull or not. With Terin, things were different. They’d become friends back at Castle Ahlen, and she’d even kissed him goodbye the day they left. Granted it had only been on the cheek, but still. Garith blushed at the memory.
Was she really going to be the second girl he watched fall for another due to the pull of the Stones? At least with Riya, he could rationalize that Torian was good for her. But Terin and Reeve?
No way. Reeve wasn’t good for anyone.
Garith drew back, kicking someone’s abandoned pack out of his way. Taking out his frustrations physically helped, even if only a bit. If only he could take it out on someone, instead of something, it would feel better.
He spared a moment to regret that it hadn’t been him who got Khane. Ever since Khane’s first betrayal of Riya, south of Witch’s Falls on their way to Castle Ahlen, Garith had itched for a chance to avenge his pride at having Emariya stolen under his nose. Normally he wasn’t prone to such extreme urges of violence, but Khane brought out the worst in them.
From what the others had said, Khane’s father, Alrec, was just as bad. He might perhaps be worse, in that they didn’t know what to expect from him.
Smoke from the nearby fire blew directly into his eyes, stinging and making them water. He’d been about to take a seat by the fire, but with the way the wind was blowing he’d be sitting right in the smoke. Figuring the other side would be better, he walked around and settled himself on the saturated ground.
If only he could figure out a way back into the estate. The look in Emariya’s eyes would haunt him until the ends of his days if they didn’t find a way to get Terin out. As it stood, he couldn’t see any way they would all manage to get back inside. Garith stared into the distance with blank, unfocused eyes, not really seeing anything.
He thought back to when he’d abandoned the fjord to chase after Riya. He’d been so sure his father would be disappointed in him, but back at Warren’s Rest, his father had been immeasurably proud.
Would his father still be proud of him now?
Light footsteps running through the camp caught his attention. Rink darted between those clustered around fires, probably looking for extra sweets for the horses. He’d been so proud of his part in rescuing Riya, and in truth, they couldn’t have done it without him. Garith only wished he too could feel as proud of his part in the day’s events.
Unable to shake off his restlessness, Garith stood. He needed to find a way to act. Sitting around stewing over his failure would drive him crazy. But what could he do about it?
Emariya watched Jessa’s receding form. Her handmaiden’s red braids—normally tidy and flawless
—had begun to creep out of their confines, giving her a more relaxed look. She genuinely hoped things worked out for her friend and Blaine. Jessa deserved the same happiness Emariya herself shared with Torian. It was funny how happiness could be found in the most unexpected places. When she’d first set out to Thalmas after promising her hand in marriage, the best she’d hoped for was that she might not hate him. And when they’d journeyed to her mother’s childhood home of Sheas Harbor, she surely hadn’t expected her handmaiden to fall for Rees Hendel’s son.
It just went to show that even without the pull of the Stones, love was unpredictable at best. Once Jessa was out of view, Emariya scanned the campsite for signs of Torian. Where could he have gone?
She decided the best place to start would be the command tent. Perhaps he’d wanted to check in on the soldiers. After a short walk, she stepped into the tent.
“Good evening, Sargent,” she greeted Corlin. “Have you seen His Highness?”
“Princess Ahlen! We’re so glad to hear of your safe return. I apologize, I’ve not seen His Highness since he left to come to your aid.”
“Oh.” Her face fell. Where else could he be?
“Would you like me to give a message to him, should I see him?”
Emariya shook her head. “Just let him know I’m looking for him, please.”
“Of course, Your Highness. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, that will be all.”
“Oh! I spoke with Jimm, of the rebels, earlier. They requested to conference with you, at your convenience.”
I’m sure they did,
Emariya thought, exiting the tent.
Not knowing where else to go, Emariya headed for their own tent. Perhaps Torian had gone to lie down. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d gotten no sleep the night before. Alone in the dungeon, she hadn’t. The night before had been one of the longest she’d ever spent.
The tension over not being able to find Torian started to ease from her aching muscles. Surely he must be in their tent, and they’d be able to rest together. It had already turned quite dark. They could put off the meeting with Jimm until the following morning when they would all be more alert and refreshed.
“Torian?” she called, stepping into her own tent. His and her things had been neatly laid out—most likely by Jessa—but there was no sign he’d been in there.
Worry began to creep in, overtaking her thoughts, and she fought back the rising panic. Could her brother have sent someone out of the estate after him? Surely they would have known if the front gates opened, but were there any other exits like the tunnel? Or had someone followed them out?
A life unable to feel him again would be a life devoid of— But she could feel him, she realized with a start. It wasn’t the acute reassuring feeling she experienced when he was within arms’ reach, but it wasn’t the aching, nearly unbearable longing that overtook her in his absence either. So at least she knew he was nearby, but where?
Emariya closed her eyes.
Father?
She searched for him in her mind.
I can’t find him for you, my palomino. It’s beyond the scope of what I’m able to do.
He wasn’t in any of the places one would expect him to be, so maybe he’d not wanted to be found.
Leaving their tent, she looked around. If she didn’t want to be found, where would she go? If they’d been home at Warren’s Rest, she would have ridden out to her meadow, but here there was only open rolling hills and woods.
Listen to your heart.
That clarified so much. Her heart beat furiously, afraid for Torian. Something in her told her to check the woods. The closer she walked to it, the more sure she became. The familiar pull of the Stones surged, growing steadily as she headed under the cover of trees. Soon she encountered trampled grass and she began to follow the trail. At least he hadn’t covered his tracks.
She began to regret her thought when she stepped into a sudden clearing, finding herself still alone with no more trail to follow. Perhaps it had been a herd of deer who’d left the path through the woods.
Dejected, she pushed aside a supple limb from a young sapling, not knowing what to do other than head back to camp. The pull was strong here, but she didn’t see him and she couldn’t just wander madly through the woods.
Desperation strangled her throat, just as the vines of the underbrush smothered much of the ground. Trying to calm herself down, she decided to head back to camp. Maybe he’d be back from wherever he’d gone.
A muffled sound, so quiet it was almost inaudible, came from the other side of the underbrush.
Emariya froze.
She tried to keep completely still, listening. There it was again. It could be a wild animal. Or a stranger. But she had to check. Without any thought for her own safety, Emariya dashed through the underbrush, ignoring the thorns ripping at her dress.
Her hand flew to her mouth as she broke through and spotted Torian on his knees, sobbing. A lifetime passed in each individual moment it took her to reach his side.
Guilt marred his handsome features when he looked up at her, eyes silver pools of molten anguish.
“Is it Terin?” she asked, settling herself onto the ground. She reached up, pushing back his damp, nearly black hair off his forehead. Offering the only comfort she could, she guided him to the ground until his head was pillowed in her lap. Never before had she seen him so vulnerable.
His voice was raspy when he answered. “Yes. And you.”
“Me?” Emariya asked, startled. “What did I do?” Hearing that she was partially the cause of his palpable anguish stabbed like a dagger into her heart.
“I’m afraid you’ll hate me,” he whispered.
“I could never hate you. But whatever for?”
“For leaving Terin behind. For what I’m going to do to your brother if I ever get a chance.”
She continued to stroke his hair back from his face, staring down into his eyes. “I can’t possibly complain about you putting me first. I’m just afraid for her. I know she isn’t acting of her own will.
And I can’t fault you over Reeve, either.”
Torian’s eyes adopted a faraway look, and for a long while they remained still and silent. The only movement was in the grass around them that had struggled its way through the spring soil and now blew gently in the evening breeze. Each time the wind drifted through, both Emariya and the grass would shiver.
“I wish I didn’t see the things that I do,” Torian whispered, his voice still raw.
“Do we need to get you some of the herbs we gave your father?” Emariya asked.
“No, I don’t have trouble knowing what is real and what isn’t, at the current time. My agony is in knowing that if we fail, it may become real.”