River Heart

Chapter Nineteen - Choices

The young woman kicked a pebble as she walked, wondering, if after all this work and effort, her quest was truly worthwhile. Was the reward what her heart desired? What was the alternative? Traveling in a wagon caravan with a Prince in disguise? Shaking her head, Lyris crossed the courtyard with quick steps, determined to put her journey in the past where it belonged.

A screech of metal followed her and she turned, hairs raising on the back of her neck. Lyris scanned the courtyard for the noise, and realised it was the guards who had lifted their swords in salute. Arn paused on the stone-steps before jogging across the gravel and closing the distance between them in a few long strides. Face hot against the chill air, Lyris took faster steps towards the gate, determined to walk through it. Away from the Prince, telling herself she wasn’t running away from him. As though there was safety on the other side. But as the prince reached out for her shoulder, she spun to face him. Though it was hard to meet his gaze. Questions lined up behind her lips, where will you stay tonight? Are you done travelling with us? Then they faded.

Arn was staring at her, brows drawn over his pale eyes and she forced herself to look up. He’d caught her, just beneath the gateway arches and they stood in shadows. Her heart pounded with uncomfortable, irregular beats against her ribs. Her throat felt too tight and still, he didn’t say anything.

‘Redstone was a gracious host,’ she could at least manage formal politeness. All those hours of etiquette lessons were not wasted.

‘He’s a generous man,’ Arn mumbled in reply. His hand dropped from her shoulder to hang, awkward at his side, ‘you left early…’

‘I felt hot,’ she lifted a hand to her cheek, ‘I needed some air,’ it was the truth. Or at least it was part of the truth and the cool air was helping.

‘I was surprised you left your new friend behind,’ Arn was looking over her shoulder at the road that fell away beyond the gatehouse.

‘Kit?’ She stared at him in surprise.

‘No,’ he shook his head, ‘the big chap, farmer or farrier or-’

‘Timmit?’ Lyris interrupted in disbelief, ‘the smith?’

Arn shrugged and she nearly laughed.

Lyris bent her head forward towards her companion, ‘Arn, were you jealous?’

‘No,’ he replied too quickly, ‘I just don’t know why Redstone chose to sit you beside him.’

‘Maybe he thought I’d like to talk to someone,’ she retorted and felt a spark of her own jealousy rising once more, ‘after all, everyone knows exactly why he sat you beside his daughters. Have you made a decision yet?’

‘Careful, Lyris,’ his voice dropped, ‘you’d be a poor guest to insult our host.’

She stepped closed again and lowered her thoughts to a whisper, ‘well, have you chosen which would be the better wife? You’re a prince after all.’

‘What does that mean?’ He challenged and she found herself taking a small step back. He followed her and closed the distance again. His breath brushed her cheek.

‘Come on, Arn!’ Lyris felt her frustration rising, ‘you know perfectly well what I mean.’

‘That I’m supposed to marry someone of my Father’s choosing?’ He took another step forward, ‘that I’m not supposed to have any emotion, or feeling or longing of my own?’

‘Yes,’ she protested, ‘yes exactly that,’ she found herself taking another half-step back till she felt the side of the gatehouse behind her.

‘So, I’m not allowed to be human, or even just a man?’ He demanded.

‘You’re supposed to be more.’ His marriage would be a political alliance. Something to aid Milany. That was just the way the world worked.

‘What about you?’ He placed one hand on the wall behind her and lent forward, searching her expression.

‘What about me?’ Lyris looked away, studying the shadows at his feet.

‘You’re a Myst in study, don’t you have to abide by certain rules? Wouldn’t your alliance with someone be important? Political?’ For all his frustration, he kept his voice quiet. Unwilling to reveal the secret she hadn’t wanted disclosed to Redstone or his retinue.

‘No,’ the young woman stared at him in surprise, ‘not at all. I’m just a girl. If a Myst marries then…then they just marry.’

His brows lifted in surprise, his gaze dropping to her mouth before he let out a slow sigh. Bowing against his hand, he was closer still, ‘so let me have a choice.’

‘It’s not in my power to grant,’ she whispered in reply. Her heart was thundering. What did she know about Arn, really? She’d shared a wagon with him for a quarter of a season. She knew that he preferred black tea in the morning and fruit tea in the evening. He didn’t eat broccoli and preferred to pick any pieces of leek out of his dinners. Frankly she was starting to suspect that he didn’t eat green food. He was the son of a King. Why was he talking to her about choices?

‘Let me choose you,’ his voice came hoarse as he bent further. His lips grazed the tip of her nose, ‘that, is in your power.’

Lyris filled her lungs with the cool night air. Everything smelt like Arn, the scent of hay, horse and leather. She shivered and he tilted his head further. His eyes were closed and he placed a gentle hand on her face, thumb resting on her cheek. He kissed her forehead, her nose, and her cheek.

Jealousy was born of desire. The student found herself reaching for the young man, her fingers edging along his jaw. Her lips parted in a quiet sigh until they were met with his. The kiss was slow, exploratory and gentle. The careful easing of his mouth over hers. He teased and worried at her lower lip, small kisses edged around the outline of her mouth. Heart pounding so hard that it hurt, the young woman pressed against him. She felt his hard body beside her own. Arn moved forward and she lent back against the wall. His hand dropped to her hip, and hers to his chest, curling in the fabric and holding tight.

Lyris had kissed before, the first few times had been terrifying, heart contracting so fast she thought it would explode, then a sense of nausea had arrived with anxious nerves and left her feeling weak. Kissing Arn, she could only feel the rising heat as it flushed through her body. Aware of all the places he touched her, purposefully or not. The hand against her cheek, his knee against her leg; his mouth moving on hers and the delightful tangle of their rapid breath. They indulged in the moment and the rest of the world fell away. The planes of his chest were taut beneath her hand. She delighted in smoothing her fingers over the thin wool of his borrowed tunic, and holding him tight, daring him to try and pull away. Her free hand dipped in heady exploration over the front of his body till she felt his belt and hooked her fingertips around it.

It was then that Arn made a soft noise, somewhere deep in the back of his throat and pulled away, breaking the kiss. His cheeks were dark and eyes lulled as though he’d just woken from a deep sleep. He stayed close, nose brushing nose as they studied one another. She’d enjoyed kissing him, and she missed the press of him against her. Yet, if they carried on, they both knew where their actions could lead. Lyris swallowed before wetting dry lips. Her throat felt parched, though sweat lined the back of her neck and made her palms clammy. Her stomach turned in nervous knots.

Bats had started to circle in the gatehouse, circling as they swooped between the ornamental trees and sandstone nooks. Lyris and Arn fought to gain their breath before the silence had stretched too long. There were questions that needed answers.

‘Are you travelling on with me?’ She asked, and blamed her breathlessness for the wobble in her voice. What if he chose to stay? She would miss him, and not because he was a prince. His absence had grown throughout the day. There was no one who laughed or smiled quite as easily as Arn, or who watched the world with the same intensity, as though frightened that something would escape his notice.

‘Yes,’ he nodded and bowed his head once more. Arn pressed a kiss to her cheek but lowered his hands to his sides. His long fingers flexed before he pushed his hands into his pockets and took another deliberate step back, wheeling a little as he did, ‘yes,’ he repeated and she wondered who he was convincing, ‘Redstone is a good man, and an old friend of my Fathers,’ he glanced back to Lyris, ‘I just couldn’t deny his kindness and pass through unknown.’

‘At least your family will know that you’re safe,’ she suggested. Only able to able to imagine the havoc that his disappearance from the beach would have created.

Arn lifted his shoulders in a shrug, ‘my brothers are tracking us,’ his mouth quirked into a faint smile, ‘I just hope I make it back to the Capital before they catch up with me.’

Lyris found herself moving after him, she reached out, touching a hand to his back, ‘are you going to stay here tonight?’ She swallowed her nerves, ‘or will you stay with me?’

He turned and collected her hand from where it hung in the air. His thumbs placed on the back, he lifted her fingers to his lips and pressed kisses to her knuckles, ‘I’ll stay here, just for tonight,’ he watched her expression before grinning suddenly.

‘What?’ Lyris demanded, tempted to snatch her hand back and out of his grasp.

‘You seem disappointed,’ his expression turned smug and she pulled her fingers free.

‘I-,’ she held her tongue behind her teeth and studied his face in turn, ‘you just vanished today, into Redstone’s fort. Perhaps we missed you.’

‘We?’ His grin only expanded and the young man returned towards her.

‘We,’ she smiled in reply and folded her arms across her chest, ‘Kit, Kelanin, Rafai…’

‘You?’ He ducked his head a little, still smiling.

‘Maybe me,’ she agreed and tilted her head back.

They shared another kiss, brief and tantalising, his mouth slanted over her, tongue probing until Arn backed away again, his hands lifted in the air, surrender. As though afraid to touch her any longer.

‘I’ll see you at dawn,’ he promised, ‘ready to sail to Toscun.’

Lyris dropped her own arms to her side, nodding. She looked over her shoulder as jealousy struck a final note. Who was he returning to in the castle, was it a bed with one of Redstone’s daughters? It was a foolish idea, no nobleman would risk the reputation of their daughters.

She had almost questioned Arn’s intentions before offering a smile instead. If she’d had any doubt of Arn’s faithfulness, there wouldn’t have been any intimacy between them. He was a good man, and so far, an even better friend.

‘In the morning,’ she called after him, with a grin and waved at his retreating shadows. He ducked out of the gates and strode back across the courtyard in the darkness. It was then that she turned to make her way down through the gatehouse, realising that for all their intended secrecy, there would be guards within the gates who had witnessed their tender moments; so she hurried down the path as fast as she could, without starting to run.