A Thousand Heartbeats

Walking patrol used to feel like a chore. Now—out of the castle, away from death and arguments and exploitation—it felt like a sort of freedom. How many times had I attempted to imagine life in my new land, finally having everything I wanted at my fingertips? I was realizing now that if I brought all the manipulation of Vosino with me to a new palace, it would be another prison.

“What are you thinking about?” Blythe asked.

Inigo was a few steps behind her, followed by Griffin. We all had our eyes on the horizon.

“The future,” I replied honestly.

She smiled, blissful. “I can’t wait to see it.”

I looked back to Inigo and flicked my chin at him, asking without words to give Blythe and me some space. He nodded, slowing his pace and keeping Griffin by his side.

How was I supposed to explain to Blythe that she’d done nothing wrong? How was I to convince her that cutting ties now was different from when I’d attempted to before? How could I explain that this was the only way I could really show her love?

Once we got far enough away from the others, I turned back and looked at her. Her eyes were on me almost all the time, and today was no different.

“I need to tell you something,” I began seriously.

She still wore her smile, but I could tell it was a delicate thing. “All right.”

“First, I wanted to thank you. You’ve only ever seen the best in me. I’ve never understood why,” I admitted. “I still don’t. But that’s meant more than I can say.”

I could see it in her eyes, the knowledge that this was me rolling out something soft for her to fall on when I broke her heart. “There’s a lot of good to you, Lennox,” she said quietly.

I shrugged. “Maybe. More important, I want you to know that I see the good in you, too. For the longest time, all I saw was a soldier, but . . . you’re much more than that.”

She swallowed. “Don’t drag it out,” she breathed, looking away. “Just say it.”

I was so, so tired of hurting other people. “Blythe . . . you and I . . .”

She shook her head. “Listen. If you’re going to be a leader, then you can’t just think about how you’ll start things; you have to think about how you’re going to end them, too. And you have to end them well.” Her eyes came up to mine, cold for the first time since we started getting to know one another.

“This is the last time I finish something for you,” she said, turning away.

The lingering chill was so uncomfortable, I nearly took the whole thing back. I might have made an attempt if something much bigger hadn’t happened.

“Lennox?” Griffin called quietly.

“Yes?” I answered, matching his tone. Instantly, Blythe went into a crouch, and I lowered myself, too, on the lookout.

“On your left,” she whispered.

I slowly turned my head, finding a masked rider on a horse with a white flag raised in the air. In the meantime, Griffin and Inigo had joined us, watching the lone rider come in.

“That’s no accident,” Inigo said. “He’s looking for us.”

“Then he can find us.” I stepped out from the tree line, into the middle of the plain, while the others stayed put. He saw me almost instantly and slowed his trot even further. Once he was close enough, he called down from where he sat.

“Lennox.”

I hoped my face didn’t give away my surprise at his knowing my name. “Yes.”

“I have a gift for you, an offering of peace. Directly from Her Royal Highness Princess Annika Vedette.”

Her full title rolled out like poetry.

Whatever she’d sent me, I’d be thankful. But there was no way he could offer a better gift than what he’d just given me: the knowledge that Annika was alive.

I held out my hand. “Then deliver your package and be gone.”

Something in his eyes said he was smiling behind his mask. And I felt like I’d seen those eyes before.

“I am not to hand it over until you confirm something.”

I huffed. “And what is that?”

“She said I could not give you this unless you could articulate exactly what the ‘sweet nothings’ are.”

I stood there, smiling to myself that she could manage to flirt with me across countries.

“I have breakfast,” I told him quietly.

He chuckled and dismounted. He walked with a slight limp to his gait and untied a small canvas bag from around his belt, holding it out to me.

I watched his eyes for a moment, shaking my head when I recognized him.

“Palmer. So you did make it home alive. Bold of you to come back.”

“I do as my princess asks,” he replied.

I took the bag and looked away. “I assume she’s well.”

I couldn’t outright ask how she was faring in the wake of losing her brother, but I needed to know something.

“She’s as well as can be expected. She’s trying to run a country, plan a wedding, and tend to her brother and father as often as possible. . . . I’m sure she’s exhausted, but she’ll never admit it.”

Each word of the sentence was like a punch to the gut in different ways.

First, she truly was leading. I knew full well she was capable, but it pleased me nonetheless.

Second, her brother was not dead. He might be sick—close to death, even—but he was alive. As was their king.

And third . . . a wedding. I knew she was obligated to marry Dear Nickolas, but that was supposed to be something distant. What if she was already married by the next time our paths crossed? How might that feel?

“No,” I replied. “She doesn’t seem the type to accept defeat.”

I pulled at the strings holding the pouch together and found inside a glass jar with a perfectly fitted lid. It looked like the type of thing a lady might keep her perfume or face powder in, something delicate and made for a vanity, not a long trip. It was hard to make out exactly what was inside with the way the beveled glass distorted it, but I opened it and found a tiny slip of paper. On it was written one word.

Dahrain.

I looked beneath it and saw rich, dark soil.

She’d sent me a piece of my home.

I couldn’t help the sob that came out, though it was embarrassing to do it in front of the enemy and my fellow soldiers. I held it up to my nose and breathed deep. Oh, it smelled so good, like plants, trees . . . hopes. All of it could grow in earth like this.

I could feel Palmer’s eyes on me as I stared at this jar full of dirt.

“Sir, I have to know, do you intend to harm my princess?”

“What?” I asked, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand as quickly as I could.

“I need to know if you intend to kill her. If there’s even a flicker of a chance, then I’ll destroy you now. I failed her once before; it won’t happen again.”

I chuckled humorlessly. “And for some reason I thought you might be on my side.”

He surveyed the horizon, and I could see the moment he spotted the others waiting behind the trees. He didn’t seem surprised to find them there. “In a way, I am. If there was a possibility of solving this dispute peacefully, then I’d support you. But if you plan to hurt my princess, my prince, or my king . . . then you are my enemy.”

“I cannot condone any more death. I would never hurt her myself nor wish her harm at anyone else’s hand. Which is why I’m telling you this: someone in the castle is after Her Highness’s life.”

His eyes widened. “Who?”

“Someone who was on the Island. That’s all I know. Kawan thinks your king and prince are dead; I’m going to let him keep believing that. But he’s convinced the only thing between us and the crown is your princess.”

His eyes darted to the grass, moving back and forth as if searching for possible names. “Nearly the entire army was there on that island,” he said slowly. “Any one of them could have been cornered by Kawan.”

“I don’t know your court dynamics. Is there anyone in the palace who might hold a grudge against the princess?”

Palmer’s eyes gave away his disbelief. “I don’t know of a living soul in our kingdom who doesn’t worship her. She’s all goodness.”

“So, in a situation where it seems like there’s nobody . . . it could be anybody?” I asked.

Horror-struck, Palmer nodded.

“You need to get back immediately,” I urged. “You have to keep her safe. After everything, she’ll trust you above any other guard, right? She’ll keep you near her?”

“We’ll have to see. But I think we should both be honest.” He looked at me, forcing me to hold his gaze. “At this point, could anyone keep her safer than you?”

I swallowed hard. “No. But it’s also possible no one could bring her more danger than me, either.”

“Regardless. You should come with me.”

I looked over to the tree line, to Blythe and the others waiting expectantly. What would happen to them if I left now? After all their waiting, after putting their hopes in me, how could I just abandon them?

“I can’t.”

Even though I couldn’t see his full expression, I could feel the wide expanse of his disappointment.

“Then let’s both pray she lives.” He turned and mounted his horse. “Do you have anything to send to Her Highness? A token? A word?”

A token. What of mine couldn’t Annika have if she asked? She had my cape; she had a bracelet made from my tie; she had every last corner of my heart. If I could have given her something grand I would have, but I held nothing.

She held everything.

I reached into my waistbelt, pulling out the bars of oats she liked so much. “Give her these, and please tell her to keep practicing her steps.”

He shook his head. “More codes. Very well. Stay safe.”

“You too.”

And he turned to go, looking at me over his shoulder one last time before he moved into a gallop.

“You’re letting him go?” Blythe called incredulously, running out to me with the others trailing close behind.

I nodded. “He delivered his message, and I needed him to bring one in return.”

She watched him leave. “Who had a message? Aren’t the king and prince dead?”

Once again, I found a way to answer without lying. “Their princess sent word.”

“Oh,” she said, looking displeased. “And?”

I sighed, clutching the glass jar of dirt wrapped tight in its cloth close to me. “I think . . . I think she wants peace.”

Blythe scoffed. “Soon enough she won’t be alive to offer peace. We can take the land. What a fool,” she added, crossing her arms and watching as Palmer disappeared in the brush.

“Are you all right?” Inigo asked.

I stared into the distance but nodded in reply. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

But there wasn’t a lot. It was only one person. And I couldn’t believe I’d just passed up an opportunity to be by her side.