Chapter 4: Borrowed Time (Late Spring – Seven Months Later)

  A soft spring breeze stirred the meadow’s trees, their dance a gentle sway. The wind played over the long green grass, causing it to ripple like ocean waves, while wildflowers in every hue basked in the sun’s warmth. Beyond, mountains covered in pine trees adorned the three-day journey to Dragon’s Peak; which was slightly visible from where I sat in the castle gardens.

  My desire to capture this moment on canvas had lingered since last summer, and now, after patiently enduring autumn, winter and spring, I finally had the chance to capture the essence of this season forever.

  With my tongue peeking out in concentration, I delicately and meticulously brought the green grass to life. I added layers of dimension with each careful stroke of the brush. It was painstaking, painting each individual blade, but I knew my efforts would pay off.

  My grandmother had loved to paint, and I cherished those memories of watching her create mesmerizing pieces.

  My princess’ duties hindered my practice, as I was destined for the throne; and my parents’ only child. The demands on my time because of this filled my days with gaining various, but much needed skills—writing, arithmetic, humanitarian efforts, etiquette of every kind, dance lessons (though I didn’t mind that one so much). I studied long hours about peacekeeping, and alliances. I was thrown into battle strategy, sword fighting, and magic wielding—the list was endless at times.

  At twenty-five, coming of age had let me graduate from long lessons, and now I had more time to explore hobbies. My mother over a year ago started encouraging me to find activities that enhanced my “desirability” for marriage. Art felt like a great starting point. Even if I was marrying Archibald, I couldn’t let my talent die because of it.

  The peace of my artistic endeavor was interrupted by the audible crunch of an apple. I jumped, nearly ruining my hard work.

  I turned swiftly to identify the source, discovering Ares casually leaning against a marble dragon statue, seemingly unperturbed.

  He smiled mischievously, suppressing laughter as he chewed.

  Ares Stoll, a sorcerer under the tutelage of my kingdom’s head mage, who was also his uncle, possessed an innate talent. Casting mage-level spells and incantations from the tender age of ten, he was more than proficient in the art now. The sky was his limit, and many regarded him with high esteem. Though his uncle always liked to say “There is always room for improvement!” which I thought was wise.

  Growing up alongside Ares and Damien, who aspired to become an Iron Vow Knight, provided a backdrop of our camaraderie, as well as pranks and some unavoidable trouble. My princess etiquette and dresses had been frequent subjects of jest, I had learned to weather both boys' banter with refined resilience over the years.

  “You gave me quite a start,” I scolded Ares before returning to my canvas.

  “Apologies, Princess,” the cheeky grin evident in his tone.

  “How long have you been standing there?” I inquired.

  Lightly pushing off the dragon statue with his shoulder, he strolled over to join me. “Not long. Perhaps an hour,” he teased, laughter dancing in his eyes.

  I rolled mine in playful exasperation.

  “Kidding! I'm kidding, It’s only been a minute or two,” he chuckled.

  “I hope that’s the truth,” I replied with a smile of my own, giving into the influence of his casual nature.

  “Keeping busy, I see,” Ares observed, pulling up a chair beside mine, the wooden legs scraping across the stones. “Well done; you’ve progressed remarkably since you began,” he commended with a genuine smile. “Your grandmother would be proud."

  My eyes went a little wide. “A compliment? Are you feeling alright, Ares?” I reached out with the back of my hand, placing it gently against his forehead to check for a temperature. Nothing of concern there.

  He brushed my arm away from his vision. “I’m serious,” he insisted, taking another bite of his apple. He leaned in closer to see what exactly I was working on.

  “What potions have you been sampling?” I quipped.

  “None,” he laughed. “Accept the compliment; it might be the only one you get from me, your Highness.”

  I shook my head in mock disbelief and continued to immerse myself in the world I was building on canvas.

  In a soft sing song tone he said, “you’re hiding in your artwork…” He took another bite. “Damien still has time.”

  I let out a heavy sigh, rinsing my paintbrush in an old glass – one my grandmother once used. “It’s day four, Ares. I’m worried sick about Damien,” I looked over at him, and his gaze met mine. “I’m doing whatever I can to take my mind off it.”

  “He’ll make it,” Ares said reassuringly with a nod.

  Damien was currently on his initiation quest for the Iron Vow. If he completed it by the end of day five, he would officially join the ranks of the best dragon-fighting warriors in all of Aetheria. Becoming a part of the Iron Vow meant enduring grueling training, like enduring the insanity of being buried alive and ball and chained at the bottom of a lake for a certain length of time. These knights had to be prepared for anything.

  Before the physical tests, Damien had to prove his knowledge of dragons, mastering the intricacies of each species, and their weaknesses; which he passed with flying colors.

  The Vow and their practice Involved hunting Drakes, Wyvern's and of course Dragons. They were armed with unique swords, strong and sharpened to pierce thick dragon scales. The training itself, took relentless effort and concentration. To become a knight in this specialty it had almost claimed Damien’s life multiple times doing so. Now, he was out to prove himself. And knowing what dangers lurked beyond my kingdom's borders, it was hard to keep a positive outlook.

  The quest he was on was straightforward. Our kingdom’s Mage would whisk him to a random lair of a dragon; all he had to do was survive and find his way back with nothing but the clothes on his back by the end of day five. With extra points to his score if he killed it, or brought a portion of the horde home. Rescue crews would be sent out the morning after if he didn’t show up by then.

  In my eyes Damien didn’t need to prove any knight status. I just wanted him back alive.

  He was the man I pictured and wished I was marrying. If he didn’t return, I also feared sanity would be lost with him.

  Damien embodied the kind of man every girl swooned over—blonde hair so light it bordered on white, eyes of piercing ice blue, a towering strong stature. He was well educated, and kindness exuded from him. His smile held the power to melt anyone into a puddle. I was unabashedly one of them.

  Archibald paled in comparison. In any comparison, actually.

  “I don’t want to marry that gross old man…” I mumbled in response to Ares’ comment.

  “Who? Baldy? At least you would be rich beyond belief,” Ares remarked with mock sympathy around a mouth full of apple. He loved calling Archibald “baldy". And quite frankly I found it amusing. It showed me I wasn’t entirely alone in my distaste of the old king.

  “But love is priceless. I want to be adored, listened to, I want someone who can help me grow. I want to be loved like a soulmate. I want to give someone that in return. That is nothing the King of Thule can offer,” I sighed and returned my attention to my art. I hoped enveloping myself in my painting would calm my nerves, give me a distraction from the emptiness in my heart I was going to face without Damien. And to be truthful, Ares wasn’t helping.

  “Princess…Can I ask you something? Something that might upset you?” Ares scrunched his brow, pulling on a stray purple thread from his gold embroidered blouse.

  “You may speak freely,” I picked up more paint from my well-loved pallet on the table beside me.

  “How desperate are you, to avoid marrying Baldy?”

  I looked side long at him for a moment then straightened my posture. “What do you have in mind?”

  “On the off chance, hypothetically speaking, would you consider marrying anyone else from the kingdom?” Ares surveyed me. “If they could save you the trouble of Archibald…”

  I painted a few strokes of grass, as the question settled in me. I had thought of about every avenue to get myself out of this mess, in hopes I could marry Damien. But what was Ares suggesting exactly?

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “Unless it avoids war, I don’t think I have the luxury to think so hopefully… But to indulge your strange question; They would have to be royalty, or from a bloodline of knights…”

  “Maybe an all-powerful Mage could challenge that?” he suggested, clearing his throat.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, giving him a small once over, “Y-you?” I scoffed, returning to my canvas. “Interesting proposition, I suppose.”

  I paused my hand before touching the canvas, perhaps he was onto something. Mages were something of rich socialites in Aetheria. Often making deals and working under kings and queens. Ares was set to take over for his uncle once he retired for Elsinora. And too add, Ares was impeccable at magic, surpassing mages twice his age, he was currently the youngest mage in all of Aetheria. Therefore highly desired by many other kingdoms.

  “Hold on… you think I’m an all-powerful Mage?” he chuckled, a surprised tone playing in his voice. “I was joking, but I’m flattered.”

  “You don’t want to know what I think,” I smiled.

  That memory with him months ago, the talk of him being interested in a girl, him taking and holding my hand. That look in his eyes, telling me more than words could. Like some mindless tether locking into place... That memory followed me. Like a lost puppy, and I hated myself for it.

  I closed my eyes for a small moment to shake the thoughts and feelings that surfaced. I looked up at the horizon to ensure I captured the landscape just right. Trying to keep my composure tidy.

  “I could have been referring to the great Mage Axar Hendrix,” he chuckled.

  “Your… Uncle?... Isn’t he in his seventies?” I said, almost laughing myself.

  “Hmm…You’re right. He eats crickets out of his beard, not really marriage material,” Ares joked, making me laugh hard enough I had to stop painting.

  “Guess I would be your best bet,” Ares winked.

  My laughter softly subsided, that single butterfly taking off inside me. My mouth went dry, painfully dry.

  “Maybe, if you stopped teasing me and being annoying, it could be considered. Simply because my only other options are old men with one foot in the grave.” I winced, then I glanced sidelong at him. His smile transformed into seriousness. I felt my heart sink slightly for him. I wasn’t trying to be rude, though he could be an option; I didn’t want to marry him. I had eyes for Damien, and him only.

  “Jade, I know you find me… tolerable at best. But if, for the sake of your happiness, I would be honored to be your… Companion if you chose me.”

  I ceased my brushstrokes again and turned to him, giving my full attention, wondering if he was jesting, but his demeanor was unusually serious.

  “You’d loathe being married to me. I annoy you too much,” I attempted to divert the topic. I started to question that he might be under the influence of some peculiar potion again. “Did someone cast a spell on you?” I scanned him, hoping for him to crack a laugh, and high tail it out, like he always did since he was a child. Instead, he stayed, looking at me with a unfamiliar sincerity.

  “No… I just have a lot of good going for me, I have money, magic, I’ve finished my apprenticeship, and soon I’m taking over for my uncle,” Ares sighed irritated, twisting the stem off the apple core.

  “We would rule…As…Friends?” I felt my palms begin to sweat, my brow furrowed. Being with Ares as a friend wouldn’t be unbearable, per say. Though, part of being queen also meant producing an heir. My eyes widened at the thought.

  I knew he was one to commit a prank or two. He could be crass and mean at times. I would say he has matured some, since I first met him. A more well rounded man now, thanks to his strict uncle.

  Could he be after the crown? Or was this genuine concern for my well being? And what of my relationship to Damien? It felt like in any universe I couldn’t be with him. If I married Ares, even if it was a ruse, Damien could not interfere at all. The knight code would not allow it, he would be putting his title and hard work on the line for loving another mans wife. Or any infidelity for that matter.

  Perhaps… I just needed to let Damien go.

  The thoughts in my head swirled around like hot soup.

  “I know I put spiders in your hair when we were younger, but I’m not a monster... I know Damien is practically your soul mate, but I can help…I can try and fix this…” he leaned back in his chair. His words cut me like a knife to the heart. He might be powerful and might be rich, but that only solved my money issue. Not the tension of war. Mages were not allowed to fight directly in political wars. And mages were typically peaceful, neutral people. At least, they took that oath once graduated. So would the marriage even be allowed?

  “Thank you for the offer… But unless I can prevent war, there is no way out of this,” My hands trembled too much to paint the grass now, so I set my materials aside and stood. Bending down, I retrieved the dragon journal I had been engrossed in the last few days to keep my mind off the worry I felt for Damien.

  Since the day I had managed to beg that Dragon to spare my friends, I took up dragon studies, reading journals upon books, night after night when everyone was asleep. My father caught me once, and let me keep at it, since dragons were becoming more of an issue. Damien didn’t like it, how much I studied them. There was always some exasperated sigh that followed once he realized what I was reading. To Damien, all dragons were bad, evil; but he dealt with them more than I. I just read about them in hopes to educate myself better.

  “Jade- I wasn’t trying to upset you.” Ares said. “I hate seeing you worried…”

  “I know,” I managed out, “I appreciate your help. I'm… worried about how Damien would be affected too.”

  Ares folded his arms across his chest in deep thought. “Jade, I don’t think there is a solution where everyone is spared some sort of heart break…”

  “You’re right…” I forced a sad smile. “But it is better for me to bear the burdens of my kingdom, to spare many of them a life of heart break through war and bloodshed… I cannot let the matters of my heart be their downfall.” Tears welled in my eyes. I walked over to the shade of a large oak tree. Sitting down on a blanket a servant had left out for me.

  I took in a few calming breaths, and held back the tears threatening to spill over. I looked over at Dragons peak once again, nestled in the southern kingdom of Arcantra, it remained snowcapped in early May.

  Dragons peak got its name hundreds of years ago. It was said to hold a great horde of gold, jewels, and all sorts of magical artifacts. A mountain said to belong to the King of all dragons. Many had tried to procure the treasure, and all have failed to retrieve any of it.

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  Some described the dragon who protected it as a blur, a shadow of sorts. It was quick and stealthy. But not much information proved more than that. After all, most died and never returned from the encounters with the dragon on the peak to say much else.

  “More Dragons studies huh?” Ares said, munching on the apple in his hand once again.

  “Yes, I want to be well-versed in this. Dragon raids are growing more frequent here and in the western kingdoms,” I replied, flipping the book open to the page marked by a long daisy Damien had once plucked for me.

  “Shouldn’t you be more worried about your shoes matching your dress?” Ares teased. I scrunched my nose at him in distaste. I could tell he was trying to change the tension in the air between us.

  “I’m hoping to find other solutions other than fighting dragons,” I said flipping through the faded pages.

  “That’s very Queenly of you. But… I know what you are really up to. You’re looking for that Dragon, aren’t you?” he asked, standing and approaching.

  I sighed a bit bitterly then nodded my head as he settled beside me. My knowledge spanned nearly every type of dragon, Fire, Earth, Water, and Air to rare subcategories like lightning, metal, lava, and diamond. They came in a mesmerizing array of colors, sizes, and scales – feathers for air-proficient dragons, a vast variety for earth, from fur to rock-like scales, some even resembling magma.

  On a personal mission to find the dragon from years ago, Its captivating bronze eyes and shiny black scales flecked with gold had never left my memory. The lightning and thunderous growl had been my compass.

  Unfortunately, my research on lightning types had yielded little information. A turning point came when I stumbled upon this forgotten leather-bound journal while helping the librarian organize a high shelf. Climbing the ladder a bit too far, my eyes caught the dusty treasure, hidden from view.

  “Mind if I take a peek?” Ares asked with a polite tone, extending his hand. Though I grumbled, I handed him the book, observing as he flipped through page after page.

  “This author is impressively thorough,” he remarked, raising an eyebrow at sections detailing dragon mating dances, and songs. “To think something so frightening, dances in hopes to win over a suitable partner.” Ares chuckled, “Oh, and look, it says dragons are incredibly affectionate creatures by nature. Once they find a suitable mate, they never bond with another. Even in death. Eeesh, that’s dramatic.”

  I swiftly snatched the book back, careful not to damage its fragile binding.

  “Maybe you should be taking notes, instead of making fun of them,” I shoved his shoulder with mine. Ares chuckled and shook his head.

  “I’m not that dramatic… And I can dance just fine…” he shoved my shoulder back, but more gently.

  “Whatever you say,” I giggled. Ares sighed exasperated, biting a snarky comment back on the tip of his tongue.

  “This book is interesting, I’ll admit.” Ares chuckled again, leaning in close, trying to read over my shoulder. Returning to my original bookmarked page, I flipped it over. The next section in the journal was titled “Legends.” Ares fell silent by my side, a welcomed change from his usual pestering. I delicately smoothed the next page over, the air thick with anticipation.

  I read:

  In my recent travels, I’ve learned some interesting things about the relationship between humans and dragons. There are stories of a time when they lived peacefully together. I found evidence of this in an old book from a forgotten library.

  Today, however, dragons and humans deeply dislike each other. But I discovered a possibly very dangerous legend that, if in the wrong hands could mean either the salvation or the demise of Aetheria.— The legend says that if someone saves a dragon from the brink of death, the dragon is indebted to it’s savior for life. The problem is, it’s hard to imagine how you could save a creature that’s nearly indestructible and hates humans. So far, I haven’t found anyone who’s done this.

  Most people want to get rid of dragons because of the hostility between them. But maybe we need to look at things differently. If people knew what I’ve found out, it could be beneficial. It could also be detrimental.

  The author wrote.

  I looked up at Ares a little awestruck. “How interesting. So…Saving a dragons life, makes you their master of sorts?” I bit my lip. Touching that dragon, danced through my memory once again.

  Ares smiled and leaned back on his hand. “If its even true. Sounds like its up to pure luck. Imagine repairing a wound on a massive dragon. Or even finding one on the brink of death in the first place.” He said looking off to Dragons Peak. I scowled at him and flipped through the pages once again.

  “I’m not saying its impossible, Jade. I think its good information to know nonetheless,” he glanced at me. “Just trying to be realistic.”

  “I wish you would be optimistic,” I rolled my eyes. “If its true, then we could prove we aren’t evil and settle things. And, maybe somehow the raids can stop. No more rebuilding homes, no more lost gold and possessions. No more Iron Vow knights,” I pushed a wayward strand of hair behind my ear.

  “Where did you find this book? It could have been written by any fool; dragons being affectionate sounds like an outright lie,” he asked chuckling and tossing his apple core into a bush.

  “In the library, a place most fools, like yourself, reside,” I smirked and stifled a small laugh. I looked over at him, and found him tilting his head to the side, his tongue moving in his cheek, biting back a snarky comment in return.

  “Touché, Princess,” Ares smiled, a muscle feathered in his jaw. Our gaze held for a long moment, his eyes surfing around my face like he was trying to memorize it. His hand that had been supporting him moved behind me now, bringing his shoulder more flush against mine.

  The wind tossed my hair across my lips and nose; Ares lifted his free hand to push the locks out of my face and behind my ear. His finger tips brushing the skin on my cheek as he did.

  “Pesky wind,” Ares said with reverence, gently cupping my face, his thumb lightly tracing over my cheek, next to the corner of my mouth.

  “Ares-" my mouth fell open slightly, like the words would form themselves, but my mind had completely quit on me.

  That green eyed gaze of his, falling to my lips.

  “Jade! Jade!” echoed my mother’s urgent voice from across the garden. I jumped and gratefully pulled from Ares’ trance to see her sprinting toward us.

  “Is everything all right, Mother?” I inquired, walking briskly to meet her, leaving Ares on the grass.

  “He’s back, Darling! He passed!” My mom reached me, embracing me tightly.

  “Damien…” I gasped, releasing myself from the hug. Without a word, I raced out of the garden, opting for a shortcut through the castle to the infirmary.

  Dodging servants adorned with trays and flowers, already preparing for Damien’s homecoming celebration; I hurried through the corridors, bypassing my father’s office.

  “We are out of money!” Elis whispered urgently, causing me to halt and sneak back to the partially open door. It had a nasty habit of finding its way open, due to the faulty lock.

  “I won’t tax my people again; we’ve taken too much already!” my father declared wearily.

  “Frankly, we’ve been traveling frequently to Arcantra seeking allies in preparation for war with Thule. That! And the cost of us rebuilding homes and farms from last year’s Dragon raid has strained our reserves,” Elis explained, irritation in his tone.

  “I know. And now, I have to push my daughter to marry for money, to that wretched King of Thule,” my father sighed.

  “Sir, in a perfect world Damien would be a wealthy king. In a perfect world we wouldn’t have to deal with dragon raids. Its just not our reality,” Elis acknowledged. “Archibald is unfortunately doing us a favor, at the expense of your daughter.” Elis paced.

  After a tense silence, my father spoke up, “She resents me Ellis… My daughter, my own wife resents me… I don’t blame them, but I don’t know if I can live with myself by sending her off like this…” his tone heavy.

  “Anything from Arcantra?” Ellis steered the subject away, not thought or compassion to my father.

  My Father pulled out a thick black envelope, and tossed it on the wooden desk. “Unfortunately the King has died. And his Son has taken over. This happened over a month ago, and we just received word.”

  Ellis opened the letter, the white paper inside had beautiful writing in gold ink.

  “Can’t say I'm entirely surprised. They have always been a quiet, secretive people.” Ellis paused and rubbed his chin, looking the letter over. “His son isn’t married correct? Rumor is they have enough wealth to put dragon hordes to shame. Archibald to shame.”

  “I can’t make any hasty decisions on a rumor, Ellis. Besides, Archibald has declared he will be arriving in two weeks for Jade. I have no time to beg Arcantra to hopefully marry Jade,” my father said with a wave of his hand.

  Elis stopped pacing abruptly by the crack in the door. I gasped, tipping over a tall pot of flowers in my astonishment. It crashed loudly to the floor.

  “Someone is listening!” Elis growled.

  I hurried out of sight, tears stinging my eyes. I needed to find Damien; surely that would ease my nerves.

  ??????

  The moment I arrived at the infirmary, I smoothed back my hair and fixed my powder-blue dress, adjusting the white bishop sleeves to be more orderly. Once I had gotten my excited breathing under control, I gently knocked on the door.

  A short moment later, a small man with a long, hooked nose and a receding hairline, named Dr. Mantis, opened the door. He was the same man who had patched up Ares’ leg after the dragon encounter. The only thing that had aged about him was the greying color on his hair.

  Dr. Mantis squinted and looked me up and down, confused.

  I giggled softly. “Your glasses,” I reminded him.

  “Oh! Right! Forgot I had them,” he said, putting his spectacles on the bridge of his nose. “Princess Jade, word got out fast!” he said, gesturing for me to enter.

  “I ran here as quickly as I could,” I said, a little embarrassed, as I followed him through a room with patients in beds along the walls.

  “Damien hasn’t woken up yet, but I’m sure he will be right as rain for the festival tonight,” Dr. Mantis mentioned hopefully.

  “Is he alright?” I asked, worry creeping into my tone. Had the test been that bad? I expected him to be exhausted, but he was known for his endurance. It wasn’t like him to be out cold.

  “Damien is fine, dearie. His shoulder was dislocated, and he’s got a few good scratches on him. But he will recover,” Dr. Mantis smiled kindly.

  “Poor thing,” I said under my breath.

  Dr. Mantis opened the door to Damien’s room; the metal hinges creaked loudly as he pushed it open.

  I entered and found Damien lying on a cot under a window. The sun shone perfectly on his short blonde hair, casting a halo. His blue eyes fluttered open and fell on me in the doorway. A smile crept up on his lips, and it made me blush.

  “Ah, you’re awake. I’ll let the nurse know and leave you to your reunion,” Dr. Mantis said behind me.

  I nodded but was entranced by Damien lying there shirtless, his blue eyes catching the light, reminding me of stained glass.

  “There’s my princess,” he said softly and reached out his good hand, signaling for me to walk over. I slowly made my way, scanning his wounds. His chest had a few deep scratches, along with bruising on his left shoulder, accompanied by his arm in a sling. He was covered in black soot and reeked of smoke.

  “You did it,” I said, clutching his hand. Damien chuckled and pulled me to sit on the side of his cot next to his hip.

  “I did,” Damien said, bringing my hand up to his lips and kissing my knuckles tenderly.

  “What happened?” I asked as I found a washcloth and a bowl of water on his bedside table. I began to clean off his face with the cool water. His eyes closed peacefully as I gently wiped the dirt from his cheek.

  “A dragon,” Damien smirked. I stopped instantly.

  “I know that,” I chuckled.

  “I killed it too,” his eyes glassed over.

  I gasped a little, “Killed it? Damien that’s incredible! How did you manage that without backup?” I said, scanning him head to toe. Damien winked. Usually, it took a few Iron knights to complete such a task.

  “Axar put me right into the hoard. I hid in the gold and treasure for as long as I could, but I couldn’t stay forever… Thankfully, there were many weapons lying around,” he said. “I didn’t manage to grab much gold, but enough to get that horse I’ve been admiring for weeks now.”

  The second he spoke of money, my heart sank a little in my chest. But I didn’t dare tell him what I had overheard my father and Elis say. Not right now at least.

  “How did you escape? What kind of dragon?” I blinked the sting of tears once the need hit my eyes. I used both hands to clean him now.

  He rolled his eyes ever so slightly at my questions for dragon details.

  “I’ll be honest, I don’t really remember much. It was smart, it knew I was there, it waited me out. And it was fast,” his voice seemed to lose some of its strength at that last acknowledgment. He then seemed to draw himself up a bit straighter, and continued, “I hardly remember how I made it out. I found a sword, and I remember getting on the beasts back, and stabbing between the shoulder blades... But I’m here. I’m safe,” he cooed, a warm smile playing at the corners of his lips.

  I sniffed, taking a calm, deep breath in. “Axar should have put you in Archibald’s castle instead,” my voice faltered.

  Damien covered his mouth with a fist, and let out a mirthless laugh, which ended in a fit of dry coughs. “Axar is bound by law. He can’t mess with politics or his powers will be stripped from him,” Damien said, rubbing his chest.

  I know that, I wanted to tell him. But I brushed it off with a roll of my shoulders.

  I wish we talked more about what would happen to us once I married Archibald; it felt like we both just did our best to ignore it. But now... Now our end was two weeks away.

  “Sorry, you knew that already,” Damien muttered, seemingly to himself.

  We fell quiet, the silence hanging between us like a heavy foreboding of the distance that would since separate us from each other.

  My mind groped for something to dispel the gloom. “Remember when you asked me to marry you when I was ten?” I smiled.

  “How could I forget?”

  “Then at thirteen, and sixteen.”

  Damien’s gaze softened as it rested on my face. “I’d marry you right now if I could. I’d call the priest and get married to you on this cot if I could,” Damien said, reaching up and pushing back a lock of my hair.

  “And what have I said every single time?” I eyed him.

  “Become a knight, and you’ll think about it,” Damien groaned.

  “Not exactly. But you can’t argue that’s good motivation, right?” I giggled.

  “So?”

  “So what?” I hesitated at the sudden intensity in which he looked on me with.

  “So, what’s your answer now?”

  I couldn’t help but let a soft intake of breath pass my lips. “Ask me properly, and I’ll give it to you.”

  “What was wrong with the first three times?” Damien asked with mock derision.

  I rolled my eyes. “How about when I was ten, Ares hid a skunk in the picnic you had prepared, and it sprayed both of us. We smelled horribly for weeks!”

  “Right! I still need to kill him for that,” Damien said with a confident nod.

  “And when I was thirteen, you asked me in front of your friends. Do you remember how they laughed at me, and you played it off like the whole question was just a big joke?”

  “I was embarrassed!” he said defensively.

  “You were embarrassed? Ares called you all sorts of nasty names for asking and then cast a spell, missing you and hitting me so that I had the face of a toad,” I said, raising an accusatory eyebrow.

  Damien’s cheeks flushed, and he glanced down at his chest. “I still feel bad about that…”

  “When I was sixteen, you slipped and sent me sprawling into the pond. My new dress was completely ruined!”

  “Okay, okay,” Damien held up his hands in surrender. “You’re right,” Damien laughed.

  Damien moved to sit up more, but winced and let out an involuntary groan as he did so. He took a steadying breath, pressed his lips together in a determined line, and awkwardly shimmied into a fully upright position.

  “Careful, we don’t want you worse,” I whispered and started smoothing the wet rag along his good shoulder and arm, secretly admiring his fighting-fit muscles as I did.

  “Can I ask for that thing you promised me?” Damien placed a finger beneath my chin and lifted it.

  My heart skipped a few beats at his touch. I remembered that during our goodbyes before he had left for his test I had promised I would shower him with kisses the moment he returned.

  Damien’s hand then smoothed over my side to the nape of my neck, and he pulled me in, bringing my lips to meet his in a moment of soft comfort.

  My heart fluttered and relaxed as he continued. His lips were slow and thoughtful as he reclaimed my mouth. I reciprocated, and he moaned a little, giving my soul the sensation of sparks flying through my veins.

  “Kissing you was my motivation to get out of there,” Damien whispered against my mouth, giving me a final peck before pulling me into a tight embrace.

  “I was so worried about you. What if you had died?” I said, running a hand through his blonde hair.

  Damien sighed contentedly, against my ear before he pressed his lips down my neck. “I’m right here, Princess.” His voice was smooth and assuring.

  I shivered.

  “I always will be.”

  I buried my face in his shoulder and completely shattered against him, sobbing.

  He wrapped both strong arms around me in a tight embrace, holding me together. “It’s okay,” he whispered.

  We held each other for a time, reveling in the closeness between us. Two halves of a heart, finally together again.

  “I’m so glad it’s over now,” I laughed through my tears. Damien chuckled, starting to plant quick, ticklish kisses up and down my neck and all over my face, finally planting a long one on my lips. He laid back, pulling me with him.

  “Me too,” Damien smiled, planting another kiss on me.

  I smiled weakly, but it quickly fell to a frown. “Archibald has written that he will arrive in two weeks…” I said softly.

  Damien’s happy expression melted away to something annoyed, nodding when the realization of how little time we had left hit him fully.

  “I just heard from my father on my way to see you. I hope you know—”

  Damien squeezed my hand, his stare commanding my full attention. “I’d fight for you, tooth and nail, till death consumed me. I hope you know that…”

  “I don’t want anyone risking their lives for me. I can’t stand the idea of knights dying for my sake. They have families…and loved ones. I can’t let anyone do that for me. It’s too much of a risk.”

  “Jade, your knights swore an oath of their own choosing to fight and do whatever it takes to protect their kingdom and future queen. You dishonor me, by taking away my duty to you.” Damien furrowed his brow.

  “I can’t risk your life for it.”

  “That’s a little selfish,” Damien sighed. “You’re not the only one in this relationship.”

  My heart, immediately twisted at his words. Selfish…

  I was selfish for standing up for the love of my life. And now I was selfish for sparing my kingdom.

  I got up off of him and out of his embrace. My nose stung, and my throat tightened slightly. I smoothed my thumb over a dry fingernail, searching for skin to pick at. Instead, I took a long breath before giving in to the bad habit.

  “If it was my fault you died… I could not recover,” hot tears streamed down my cheeks.

  I could tell Damien was defeated and out of words as we sat there in deafening silence.

  How was I supposed to let him go and fight for our love? I couldn’t do that. To avoid any more conflicts for my kingdom, I had to go to Thule. To spare the hearts of my people, I would do it. My hands were utterly and tightly bound. There was no way out of this.

  “You’re not the only one hurting from this, Jade. You don’t have to fight it alone,” Damien whispered, tilting my chin up so I met his eyes.

  “I don’t know what to do, Damien,” I began to break down again, large tears spilling over my cheeks and down my neck.

  “Let me fight for you,” he said, exasperated. “Tell your father we can take them.”

  I trembled and shook my head. “Either way, I lose you… Besides, you are in no shape for war right now,” I sniffed.

  He fell silent, anger evident in his demeanor.

  “Oh, my boy!” said a shrill voice. A voice so recognizable that we both knew it was his mother.

  I quickly stood up from his cot and regained my composure, fanning myself with my hand to cool my red, embarrassed face.

  “Princess Jade!” His mother said with a quick bow before scurrying over to her son. She was a funny woman—the town gossip, that was certain. Damien had her blonde hair and his dad’s blue eyes.

  “Hello, Mother,” Damien chuckled as she ran over and hugged him, squeezing him so tight his eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

  “I heard you beat that dragon, my dear!” she exclaimed, finally letting him go to breathe.

  “See you tonight,” I said, excusing myself from the room.

  Damien shot me an apologetic gaze and sighed as I waved goodbye. There was no getting around his mom. She worried about everything, especially her firstborn son. I understood her panic and was okay with letting her have her moment with him.

  I exited to find Ares striding up to the doorway. His face was glum, and I knew it was because of our conversation earlier.

  “How is he?” Ares fiddled with the strap on his satchel.

  “Fine. The doctor says he’ll be okay for the festival tonight.” I glanced back into the room, watching as Damien spoke with his mom. She had picked up where I had left off with cleaning him.

  “Just like I said he would be,” he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Was he upset Damien made it back, all because he wanted me to marry him instead?

  I was making everyone upset. I had to get out of here.

  “I’ll see you later,” I told him and walked away. I could feel his eyes on me as I rounded the corner.