CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BETH
Once Bleddyn was satisfied with the way I blocked imaginary strikes, we moved on to the next skill.
“Hold your sword tighter, but not too tight.”
It wasn’t easy without a proper handle on the wood. Splinters pierced my fingers through the fraying fabric. I grit my teeth until a big one drew blood. I yelped and dropped the practice sword.
Bleddyn took my hand and examined it. “You have soft, easily damaged skin. We need to get you gloves before we continue our lessons. I shall send for some, and we will do more this evening.”
Without letting go, he led me back inside, and Olwen gently washed the tiny wound. Then she placed an ointment on it, smiling at me. “You will be fine, milady.”
“I know,” I said, embarrassed about the fuss she was making over a scratch. Then I remembered my manners. “Thank you. I very much appreciate your help.”
Bleddyn had disappeared, and I was on my own with Olwen. She still held my hand, staring at my face again. It was like she was psyching herself up to tell me something she was reluctant to share. So I fought the compulsion to pull my fingers back and waited for her to speak.
She rubbed my skin one last time before letting go. Then she said, “Before I bought this tavern, I was the royal midwife. It was my greatest joy and pleasure, but also my greatest failure when Prince Prys and his sister were born. Their mother, Princess Arwen, died despite my best efforts, the Mother Goddess bless her soul. Her body could not survive after giving birth to the twins.”
I listened politely, but a small seed of foreboding grew in the pit of my stomach. The woman sat pensively until I asked, “What happened to the twins?”
She seemed lost in thoughts, contemplating the table surface between her hands. “They grew up as the best of friends. Yet everything changed when they came of age. Princess Arwen was the older of the two by three minutes, and therefore the heir to the kingdom. But things could have turned out differently if it had not been for the falling out.”
My ears perked up. “What falling out?”
“Princess Arwen fell in love with a mortal, a human. Her father would not allow the liaison, and Prince Prys took his father’s side. It still could have been cleared up, but then one day, the princess disappeared.”
I sat up straighter, sure that the story somehow concerned me and my family. The former midwife held my gaze with her quicksilver eyes and said with finality, “She was never seen again. She has entered the annals of our people as the Lost Princess. There are few who remember her life, but I do. And you, young half-Fae, you are the spitting image of her.”
She took a deep breath while I waited on tenterhooks. “I believe you to be the daughter of our lost princess and the granddaughter of King Rhys.”
That was not what I’d expected. My mouth dropped open and my eyebrows shot up. Was she serious? Early on at the Academy, I would have laughed and brushed away the story as nonsense. But then I’d learned my mother had concealed my Fae heritage for all of my life.
And then there was my father’s death. There were so many hints and clues that something wasn’t right with my family, but it had never occurred to me I might be in line to the Faerie throne.
I shook my head violently, overwhelmed by the fanciful thoughts. No, there was no way I could be a princess. The whole thing was insane.
The older woman regarded me intensely as I struggled with my inner turmoil. She placed her hand on mine and said softly, “I already sent a message to Prince Prys. If you went to the royal court, you would not get an audition for months. But the prince holds me fondly in his memories, and he will meet you here tomorrow.”
***
BLEDDYN
Mistress Olwen did not employ a mage for heating the water from the stream behind the house, as this privilege was only for the very rich. However, the servants soon carried enough hot liquid into Beth’s room to fill a wooden tub. I sprinkled herbs and fragrant dust into the vat and walked back to the dining area.
I was about to tell Beth our rooms were ready and the steaming bath was waiting for her. But when I entered the kitchen, I overheard Mistress Olwen tell the little half-Fae that she had sent word to the prince.
All blood rushed from my face. My lips turned numb, and I had to close my eyes to stop the room from spinning. My voice sounded as cold as my hands felt.
“What do you mean, the prince will meet her here?”
Beth jumped and turned around with wide eyes. She stammered, “I… I told you that I want to find out who my parents were.”
All the joy of performing my sword skills for Beth, of seeing how impressed she was by my graceful moves, evaporated. My shoulders hurt from being pulled so high, and if I walked, I would have stalked across the room like a rock troll. I blinked against the fear threatening to throttle me.
Olwen watched me with knowing eyes. But she had no idea about the mission that had been thrust upon me. I had been proud to be of service, yet after meeting Beth, the suspicion of what lay in store for her made me sick.
I put some distance between the half-human and myself. “You do not have the full story, and I cannot give it to you. But please, believe me, you must not meet the prince.”
I did not want to be questioned by either of the women, nor was I ready to give answers they surely expected. Instead, I turned around, ready to return to my room.
Beth got to her feet and called after me. “Wait. Please talk to me.”
I ignored her plea. She would not thank me for telling her the truth. But maybe it was not too late. Addressing Olwen, I said harshly, “Call him off. Send another messenger. We will leave early in the morning.”
If Beth had been in any condition to travel, I would have forced her to come with me now. But she looked dead on her feet.
“Go upstairs, human. There is hot water waiting for you. Your muscles need to soak. I have added soothing herbs to your bath.”
I did not wait to see if she followed my instructions, but after I had stomped upstairs and closed the door, I heard her feet drag her tired body into the room next to mine.
While she was busy soaking in the tub, I forced my thoughts away from her bare skin and smooth limbs. What I had overheard had shattered the illusion of safety in which I had allowed myself to revel.
I could not let the young woman meet Prince Prys. She had no idea what she was getting into. I had been tasked with finding her and bringing her to the palace by order of the prince. But after meeting her, my sense of duty had evaporated bit by bit.
She was everything I dreamed of in a mate. She was smart, courageous, if a little hasty at times. She was also gorgeous, and her curves, which were too rounded by Fae standards, pleased me more than any other female’s.
I fantasized about running my hands over them and tasting her plump lips again. And yet, as a member of the royal guard, such pleasures were denied to me above the execution of my duties.
The prince had not shared with me his plans for Beth once I found her, but I knew him well enough to assume they would not be good. If what I had overheard was true and she was the Lost Princess—his niece—, her fate was sealed. The prince would never allow her to live. Her only hope was to alert her grandfather, the old king, who had never stopped searching for his missing daughter.
I waited until the staff emptied Beth’s tub. When the wenches had finished plodding up and down the stairs with their heavy buckets, I entered her quarters. She was wrapped in a linen shroud, her hair brushed back from her forehead, clinging to her scalp. No Fae woman wore her hair as short as she did, but it made her look pixie-like and cute.
I resisted the urge to pull her into my arms. “Did you enjoy your bath?”
The fatigue on her face lifted as her lips stretched into a half smile. “Yes. It was wonderful and just what I needed. Thank you.”
I brushed away the pinch of regret. This was the moment I had been waiting for. Her mind was open, and she was vulnerable to me. I stepped into her space, driving both her shoulders back with my hands. She looked up at me with so much trust in her eyes that I hesitated, but it was for her own good.