The Liberian

Chapter 58

felt something in her break with relief and she covered her mouth with her hands to muffle a small cry. Derek took one look at her panic-stricken face and, with a quick glance to ensure there were no observers, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the tent.

The moment he released the heavy canvas flap, they were plunged into near-darkness. She blinked in the dim light. His bed was a mess of blankets; papers and empty bottles cluttered his table.

Derek quickly rounded her and placed his palms on her shoulders. He inspected her from toe to head. “What is it?” His voice was tense. “Are you hurt?” Derek moved a hand to her forehead and ran it down her face to tilt Halle’s chin up to look at him.

The feeling of relief was still too strong for her to feel embarrassed. “I’m okay,” she finally managed weakly. Halle reached up and grabbed both his wrists. She let out a noise between a laugh and a sigh when she saw the sleeves of his shirt showed no signs of blood. “I’m okay.” Halle breathed. “I thought, you ...”

“I what?” he asked. Derek was clearly confused, but the prince made no motion away from her.

“It doesn’t matter.” She laughed uneasily. “It was a dream. Something bad ... I thought you were hurt. But it was just a dream.”

Derek paused before moving his hands to cup her face. He ran his thumbs over her tearstained cheeks, and she relished his eyes on her for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’m fine,” he whispered. “See, I am fine.”

His tenderness set free a small hiccup in her throat, and she squeezed his forearms. “I was afraid,” she admitted. His eyes widened. “I thought ...” She choked on her words.

“What? Thought what?”

Halle searched his questioning gaze. “Nothing,” she said with a shake of her head. “It doesn’t matter; you’re well.”

“Halle,” he insisted, his hands on her face preventing her from looking away.“I was afraid I’d lost you.” The words were an arrow into the heart of the silence that had been flourishing between them. And words, like arrows, once let go, could not be taken back. Halle had confessed as much to him as she did to herself. The truth of her admission slowly dawned on them both. She felt her jaw quiver. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

She released his arms and stepped away to leave. Halle’s ears burned with embarrassment, and she dipped her head. What had overcome her? Why had she come? He’d made it clear for days that she’d done something to offend him. That he didn’t want her presence.

Derek closed the gap between them. Bending over slightly, he curled an arm around her upper waist and wrapped the other around her shoulders. Halle gasped and got a breath of his shirt as her face pressed against his chest.

He held her there and took a few deep breaths. Halle felt his chest move under her cheek, and she heard his heartbeat run fast. Uncertainly, she raised her hands and grabbed the back of Derek’s shirt. He didn’t pull away.

“I told you, you foolish woman,” he whispered, his breath washing away the scalding embarrassment. “You have to tell me if you want to lose me.”

Halle tightened her arms around him and closed her eyes. His contact calmed her, and she felt her heartbeat slow with his. Derek’s hand shifted, and she felt his fingers lose themselves in her tangled morning hair.

“I thought you were hurt.” He laughed dryly. “I’d just been ...” Derek seemed at a loss for words. “I had my own dream, I suppose.”

Halle inhaled deeply. He smelled like smoke, sweat, metal, leather, and something distinctly Derek. She felt him shake his head, and they continued to stand in silence. He was warm through the thin fabric of his shirt, and she pressed herself closer.

She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but eventually she felt his arms loosen around her. Halle wanted to protest, but her grip relaxed. Derek straightened, but an arm remained around her waist. His other hand curled around the back of her neck.

“Tonight, come to me.”

Halle felt the pads of his fingers indenting the nape of her neck. “Tonight?” she squeaked, her throat suddenly dry.

Derek was suddenly as startled as she was. His eyes lost some of their intensity to surprise and confusion, as if his mouth had spoken before his brain could process his previous demand of her. “I told you there were things I wanted to work on with you.”

“Right.” Halle nodded. He’d been so distant she’d almost forgotten.

“You should go,” he murmured as his hands relaxed their hold on her. Derek stepped away. “Before too many wake up.”

Halle nodded. “Again, I’m sorry for disturbing you,” she said softly, shock at their actions beginning to settle in.

“It is fine,” he said gently. “We can speak properly later.” Halle nodded. Derek walked over to the flap of his tent and looked about. “It seems clear.” He stepped aside and she stepped out.

Halle heard the canvas close abruptly behind her, and she walked away, only looking forward. There were a few more people up and moving about, but none paid her any mind. The sky was painted with oranges and blues; dawn drew close.

She dressed in her armor outside of her tent, so as not to wake Fot. Her skin tingled as she slipped the chainmail over her woolen clothes, and Halle reminded herself to breathe. A dream had sent her into a blind panic, running to the crown prince.

Why?

Halle’s fingers faltered on the latches of her armor. The memory of their dance at the gala rushed back to her with stunning clarity. He’d held her then also and, like this morning, she’d never wanted it to end. She pressed a hand over her eyes, blocking out the dawn with a groan.