The Liberian

Chapter 63

Halle put on her boots and crossed the few steps to the entrance of the tent and stopped, turning. “Derek, tomorrow.” Halle paused, the words sticking to the inside of her throat, she swallowed hard to free them. “Will all this be a dream?” His brow furrowed a moment. “The next time we meet, will it be as though none of this happe23ned?”

“Of course it will be,” he said very matter of fact. Halle felt her chest tighten. Derek crossed the distance between them and placed his palm under her ear, his fingers wrapping around the back of her neck. He leaned in close and she saw a flash of amusement in his eyes. “To everyone else, of course it will be.”

“To us?” Halle didn’t know how a begging tone had slipped into her voice.

“For us, it is waiting four more days until we practice your Projection again.”

She smiled faintly in relief, hoping she understood his meaning correctly. “Until then.”

“Until then.” He straightened and pulled back the tent flap to allow Halle to disappear into the cool night.

Her stomach was nothing but butterflies, and she suppressed a strange noise of elation as she walked back to her tent. Halle had never known a feeling quite like this before, and she found she enjoyed the bubbles it put in her blood. Four more days; it was far better than a month. Halle cupped one hand over the other, feeling phantom lips upon her skin.

Derek had been right, it was late. Most of the fires burned low and were located toward the center of camp. Along the edge there were few people. She made it far enough away from Derek’s tent before someone noticed that her presence could have been a result of any number of reasons. The quiet night began to subdue her as she neared her tent with every step. She needed to apologize to Arel.

Arel was curled up in her bedroll, and she made no motion as Halle changed silently. The air was cool against Halle’s bare skin as she undid the bindings she had begun to wear over her breasts to prevent uncomfortable chaffing in her armor. Halle’s mind instantly thought back to the prince’s warmth, and it sent a chill of a different kind through her. She sighed as she crawled into the scratchy wool of her blanket.

Halle had been content to let things with Arel go until the morning. But the Western woman had only been feigning sleep, and Halle was quickly locked into a staring contest. Arel regarded her thoughtfully and allowed the silence to stretch on until it was clear that she was waiting on Halle.

“I’m sorry for making you set up the tent alone today.” Halle’s ears burned with embarrassment.

“That was no trouble.”

That wasn’t, but how Halle had acted was. “I’m sorry also for snapping at you.” She did her best to keep eye contact with Arel, but shame eventually won out and Halle avoided the other woman’s gaze. “I didn’t mean it, I was just, I was exhausted and—” Halle swallowed her stalling “—Arel, you’re my friend. I couldn’t have done this without you. I wouldn’t have survived this long without you.”

Halle choked on emotion. It was true. If it weren’t for everything Arel had done and was continuing to do for her, Halle would have been alone. Sure, Derek was helping her and he could bring Halle as much joy as he could frustration. But things were strange there, because of their own hesitations and the world’s expectations. In comparison, the bond Arel had built with Halle was perfectly simple.

Arel’s hand closed around Halle’s tightly. “Don’t think on it any longer,” Arel said finally. “I forgive you.”

Halle took a shaky breath, clinging to Arel’s palm.

“You are more than a protégé to me, you know. You are a dear friend.” The Western woman ran a hand through Halle’s hair lovingly. “I don’t have many friends.”

“I never did either,” Halle laughed weakly.

“Derek was one of my first friends.” The prince’s name from anyone’s mouth gained Halle’s attention, and Arel said it even more easily than Halle could. “You shared your secret with the prince. I’ll share mine.”

“You don’t have to.” Halle could sense an unfamiliar aura around Arel, one of discomfort.

“I know.” The woman smiled. “But I want you to know I trust you as you trust me.” Arel shifted, her eyes growing distant. “I suppose nothing will make sense unless I start at the very beginning. I came from a very poor family in a small town called Qui.”

“I don’t know it,” Halle confessed.

“You wouldn’t, not unless you’ve studied Western mining. Qui is a town around halfway to Norin. At least, if you took the old routes before the Great Imperial Way was extended. Back then many would stop through for supplies or to rest horses.” Arel rolled onto her back, her fingers only lightly entwined with Halle’s.

“It’s a town that’s full of more s**t than a cow pie.” The woman was uncharacteristically bitter. “My father was a miner who never amounted to anything other than turning alcohol to piss. My mother was a broken woman, and all I think she could do was stare into space, especially after my father hit her.”

Halle blinked in a stunned silence.

“There was no money, no future, and no joy there. Mother help me, I hated that shack they called home. One day, I was five, maybe six? My father brought home a man I’d never seen. He said that the man would give us all the money we needed and all I had to do was be a good girl and do as I was told.” Arel placed her forearm on her forehead, staring at something far beyond the canvas above them.

“I didn’t understand until I was alone with that man. I screamed, I cried, and no one came. In that moment, I just wanted them all to die.” Arel sighed softly. Halle could hardly process what the woman was implying. “They found me sitting among the ashen remains of that home. I don’t think I mourned once.” She turned back to face Halle. “That was when I first Manifested. I was just a child, and a sorceress at that. So I was given to the mines. Every day I was lowered into a hole. I dug and dug. Or made fires, melted things away, or whatever else I could do.”

“I’m sorry,” Halle whispered. Those two words didn’t seem to even come close to enough.

“This was a different life, Halle.” Arel shrugged. “Honestly, the mines paid me a copper for every day I worked. It was enough to buy dinner, and I slept in empty storage sheds.” Arel returned onto her back, her eyes glassed over with memories. “Then one day there was an Imperial company riding through. The Emperor himself was there, and they made a stop to rest their mounts and resupply their stock. I’d never seen anything as amazing as the gilded carriages and horses covered in dyed leathers.

“The Emperor said he wanted a tour of the mines. They were headed to Norin but Emperor Solaris knew our mine was one of the West’s primary silver veins and he was kind enough to at least feign an interest. Derek was there.”

Halle struggled to envision what a child-Derek would look like without his adult demeanor and presence.

“He was twelve and every inch the prince—even then. He followed his father around the mines dutifully. But he was still a child, and eventually he wandered on his own, well, with a guard. Though no one in the West would ever hurt him. He’s one of the West’s own, after all. I saw him making some fires to play with. I’d never seen another person like me.” Arel laughed softly.

“I was such a grubby little thing, Halle. I had no business approaching the crown prince. But he smiled kindly and let me show him what I could do. He told me there was a place in the castle, a Tower, where people like us were special—where I wouldn’t have to live in the dark. I remember crying; I cried because it sounded so perfect, I cried because I knew I would never go.“He looked at me strangely. He didn’t understand why I wouldn’t. His guard explained it to him, and Derek just said he would take me.” Arel fussed with her blanket. “He took me to his father and told him, in front of everyone there, that I was coming back to join the Tower. At first the foreman objected, saying I was property of the mines. But Derek wouldn’t hear it. In the end, I was bought with seven gold pieces and an Imperial thank you. I was eleven when I finally left that town, and I never went back.”

Halle stared in awe, but Arel seemed to only be half-finished.

“I joined the Imperial caravan to Norin, and then back to the Southern palace. Derek and I were inseparable the whole time. We were kids—and, well—kids don’t understand the world and all the reasons that keep people apart. Right from the start he didn’t want me to call him “prince”, said it made him feel strange. I was happy to oblige. When I joined the Tower, he insisted we trained together. Minister Egmun didn’t—”

“Egmun?” Halle interrupted in shock.

Arel knew there was something more to Halle’s tone. “Egmun was the Minister of Sorcery before Victor.”

Halle sat up. “No, not the same Head Elect Senator Egmun?” It had to be a mistake.

“Yes, he stepped down from his minister position to join the Senate,” Arel explained.

“He-he—” Halle seethed and sputtered remembering the man who tried to beat her into a submission that would mean accepting death as an alternative to the pain.

Arel let Halle’s words fall away. “I hear Egmun changed a lot during his transition to senator.”

“Sorry, continue.” Halle shook her head, pushing away the senator whom she considered evil incarnate.

“Anyway, they didn’t think it proper I trained with the crown prince, but Derek is Derek. So we trained together anyways. Every day I got to spend with him was better than the last. Even the times he was angry or sad, I just enjoyed being with him, seeing him ...” Arel trailed away into nostalgia with a soft, sad smile.

Halle’s eyes widened. “Did you love him?”

It would make sense if she had. He saved her, he brought her to a new life, and he stayed by her side as he showed her an amazing new world. Who couldn’t love someone under those circumstances when they were as amazing as Derek was?

“Well ...” Even in the dim light Arel’s cheeks were slightly flushed. Halle had never seen her blush before and it made her insides clench. “There was a summer, he was barely fourteen and I was thirteen. It was that age when you first start wondering what love is. We had a moment; he was the first boy I kissed.” Halle shifted her blankets. “But, it faded just as fast as it came on. We both realized we were kids playing at love and laughed it off.”

Arel sighed softly.