The sky was already getting purple when she saw some buildings. Time to find the Oak Tavern. Her legs trembled, and this time it wasn’t only because she was tired, but realizing that she was going through with her plan, that she was going to face the royal delegation, that she was indeed, hopefully, on her way to the castle. Well, of course she was. What had all that night walking been for?
There were no buildings with signs. Still, there was a two-story building right in front of her. Literally at the end of the road, which curved in front of it. Still no signs, but it had to be it.
In the shadow, she saw someone standing in front of the building. A man leaning on a fence. Arms as thick as her calves, wearing a sleeveless vest even in the cool morning. Maybe he wanted to show off.
Some of Seth’s words came to her mind, then, telling her that she was “a girl and all” as if it meant she couldn’t do as much as he could. For some reason, the guy reminded her of that, as if he was saying, “Look at me, I’m big and mean, and a man, and oooh, I’m so much better than you.”
Perhaps he was mean. Dressed in leathers, it could be a mercenary looking for work somewhere. Maybe an assassin. Well, Zora wore leather too. As she got closer, she realized he was rather young. He had long dark hair parted on the side, covering part of his face with his bangs, and his face was rather nice. Insanely nice. Which made no difference. Zora would never notice guys again.
Memories of Seth and of the talk she’d heard kept coming to her mind, her anger bubbling inside, growling in unison with her stomach. She’d never be humiliated again. Ever.
The cool night air felt good on Griffin’s bare arms. Outside, alone, below the full moon, he could maybe collect his thoughts. Make sense of what was happening. He leaned on the fence surrounding the tavern, took a sip of his tea, and closed his eyes. It was as if he was a cart on a slope, about to go down faster and faster, each second making it harder to stop, falling from reason, from duty, from everything he’d always valued.
Younger brothers didn’t get anything. He shouldn’t get anything, and he’d never wanted to take anything from Kiran, his oldest brother. He’d never even envied him, never coveted anything. And yet, there he was, and his mind—and heart—couldn’t get over Alegra.
There was no question what his heart wanted, and yet, there was this trace of guilt, this discomfort in the feeling that he was breaching something sacred. But it wasn’t as if he could give up on her. Even if he could, it would not change what had already been done.
Griffin should be bursting with happiness. He was. No doubt he was. If only he could quiet his conscience for a while. Kiran would get everything, just not Alegra. Perhaps it was fair.
He took another sip and noticed the sun rising in the horizon, chasing away darkness, its red light warming the colors of the road. Soon it would warm the ground and the air, too. And there was something else on the road. He closed his eyes then looked again, to be sure he wasn’t imagining things. He wasn’t.
It was as if someone was emerging from the sun. A man. No, too small. A woman. Warrior leathers, a sword on her back, sun-kissed skin, and brown hair with lighter tips, the image looked unreal, as if the goddess of the sun was coming to punish him. Perhaps he deserved it.
As she approached, he realized it was just a girl, shorter than him. Young, too, which didn’t explain what she was doing there.
She looked around as if uncertain. “Is this the Oak Tavern?”
Definitely a girl, not a goddess. Griffin had to squint against the sun. “Were you walking alone?”
The girl crossed her arms. “Why? You think I can’t defend myself?”
Quite young. Naïve. Overconfident. Very dangerous—for her. He pointed to the pommel of the sword on her back. “This is cute, but won’t save you from—”
Griffin didn’t finish as she pulled her sword and in a swift movement, had its tip on his neck.
“Won’t save me from what?” she yelled.
He was so stunned that he stepped back, tripped on something, and broke the fence, falling on the mud behind it. He’d been caught off guard. He focused on quieting down the anger menacing to surface. He always had to keep it in check. Without moving, he just stared at her. “Unprovoked violence against an unarmed person. Trying to prove something?”
She still pointed her sword at him. “I have nothing to prove. I’m not weak or lesser than you.”
Ha. Words were sharper than steel. “That’s in your head, girl. Inferiority complex.”
She took a step forward and for a moment he thought he’d have to fight her for real, when he heard the door opening. Oh, no. Alegra.
3
The Prince
Griffin felt mud on his back, and the deep humiliation of having Alegra see him defeated, even if the only reason he was defeated was because this was stupid and he wasn’t going to fight a sixteen-year-old. The girl stepped back, as if afraid. Afraid of Alegra. Not Griffin. Some strange world.
“I… I was showing him my sword skills,” she said.
Alegra’s warm laugh was like calming music cooling down his nerves. “Glad it isn’t the other way around,” she said. “Come.”
She took the girl by the hand and pulled her inside, but not without turning and winking at him. Dangerous game.
* * *
He had to carry heavy buckets upstairs to his room, as he didn’t want to wake up the servants that early. After filling the tub, he took off his dirty clothes and stepped in. Chilly like the morning. Here he was, bathing in cold water because of his guilt-induced insomnia and then a crazy girl outside. Perhaps cold water would make him go back to his senses. What senses? Alegra here, in this inn, had been a chance meeting, and from chance things had gone this strange and yet wondrous path, one he wasn’t sure he could walk away from.
The door opened and he shuddered with the gust of cool air.
Alegra walked in and stood with her hands on her hips. “Taking a bath? That’s selfish. Should have invited me.”
Griffin shook his head. “It’s cold and dreadful.”
She took off her shoes, and before he could say anything, stepped in the tub. Not that there was room for two. With a grimace, she said, “You meant it. Cold.”
The bottom of her skirt was drenched.
“You’re gonna get wet,” he warned.
Instead of walking out, she crouched and tilted her head. “Isn’t that the whole point?”
He chuckled. “Your clothes are getting wet.”
She sat on the tub, so that they were both squeezed there. “Oh, no. My dress will get all wet, then I’ll have to wait for it to dry.” She rolled her eyes. “So terrible.”
Griffin couldn’t ignore their closeness, but he also remembered the reason he was there. “I have to go to the Dark Valley.”
Alegra put a finger over his mouth. “You’re a Gravel prince. You don’t have to do anything.”
Griffin closed his eyes. Prince. Not king. Huge difference there. And there were things he wanted to find out about the Dark Valley. But then Alegra’s lips were on his, and his plans didn’t matter anymore. All his doubt was gone. In that bath, even his guilt was being washed away. She was no longer Linaria’s princess, the hope for an alliance with their kingdom. She was just Alegra.