IV
Long before the battle of Hamill Canyon, I had heard about their flight from Renais, of how the Silver Knight had whisked the princess of Renais out of her country, braving enemy forces alone in spite of his grave wounds. They said he still bore the scars of that terrible injury.
To then hear him admit to her that the wound still pains him, that he might carry it all his life... My heart ached for him then. He had given so much. How could anyone think him unworthy of a princess, of a queen even?
I wished then to be worthy of him, to earn some repute in battle, enough that I could prove my worth just as he had. Perhaps then I could look him in the eye and know that my valour could bridge that distance between us.
Even now, I wonder sometimes, was it madness for a slayer of knights to aspire to earn the love of one? But love knows not good sense, nor does it acknowledge rank or wealth or honour. So I learned. Though it did not bring me happiness.
ooo
It amazes me that I survived the battle of Jehanna Hall unscathed. I fought wyverns, mages, knights, and all of them fell beneath my blade. A year ago I was only a wool trader's daughter. With my brother to inherit my father's trade I was doomed to be no more than somebody's wife one day. Now I've travelled the continent, seen mountains and deserts, spoken with royalty and retainers. And I've bloodied my hands quite thoroughly.
The white sands of the Jehanna desert glisten in the moonlight almost like snow-covered hills. It's hard to believe that half a day past, a battle was being waged close by. My body aches and my weariness goes bone-deep, but I have duties to fulfill before I can rest. As I approach one of the large pavilion tents where the healers have been busy at work since the battle ended, I steel myself. Already I can hear the groans of the wounded within.
When I do pull back the tent flaps and enter, I find there's no one there at first, though there are mounds of bandages, salves, and healing staves lying about. "Hello?" I say. A few moments later white-robed healer comes to greet me. There are dark circles under her eyes and her robes are spattered with blood like a butcher's apron, but still I recognise her. Everyone knows of "the healing spirit," as the troops like to call her.
"Good evening, Sister Natasha."
She smiles wanly. "May I help you?"
"I was sent to ask after Sergeant Tammerson. He was mauled by a wyvern in the shoulder?"
Sister Natasha nods. "Yes, I remember him."
"Is he..."
She closes her eyes for a moment and I fear the worst. "He survived but we weren't able to save his arm. I'm sorry."
"I... I see. But... he's alive? He'll be all right, won't he?"
"Yes. He's resting now."
"Thank you, Sister. I know you did all you could to help him. I..."
"Is there something else?" she asks as I hesitate.
"I was told a friend of mine was here and I was wondering if I could–"
"Natasha?"
We both spin to face the man who's just entered the tent. Joshua– Prince Joshua, as it turns out– strides into the tent, paying me no mind as he saunters up to Sister Natasha, places his fingers under her chin, and tilts her face up. He peers at her a moment and I can see her cheeks growing rather pink. "You need to rest before you wear yourself out," he announces after a thorough inspection.
"Prince Joshua–"
"You're not really going to start calling me that, are you?" he cuts in. "Unless you want me to start calling you 'Sister'?" he adds with a roguish grin. While Sister Natasha stammers a reply– and she's blushing to the top of her ears now– I slip past them into the next part of the pavilion.
The wounded are laid out in long rows. The light here is dim, only a few lanterns, half shielded, and the air is thick with medicinal scents, making my nose wrinkle. I'm relieved to find that Karinia is only a few paces in. She's awake and smiles when she sees me.
"How are you?" I ask, kneeling down next to her and keeping my voice low so as not to disturb the others.
"Been better," she says, but she winks. I was told a wyvern's tail caught her in the side and broke her collar bone and half her ribs, that she'll need a few treatments before she's up and around again. "Surprised they let you come visit."
"I was here to ask after the Sergeant... and I snuck in."
She chuckles and winces immediately. "Don't make me laugh," she says with a groan.
"Sorry. I just wanted to look in on..." I trail off as realize I'm not the only interloper in the patients' ward.
"I'm fine. Really." A voice, female, and vaguely familiar.
I glance over to see a man, tall, with strong features. I don't believe I've seen him around camp before and surely I would remember him. He's a noble certainly, draped as he is in a fine, blue tunic. His hair is short, but it's the same tint of Princess Eirika's and– Oh gods help me, it's Prince Ephraim, kneeling next to a cot, holding Princess Eirika's hand. He glances up and catches me staring.
I spring to my feet. "My Lord, I'm sorry I didn't know you were– that is I didn't mean to intrude– I– "
He raises a hand and I halt my curséd tongue. "It's fine," he says. "Please... be at ease."
"I– Thank you, My Lord," I manage to get out and then bow. Palms slick and face flushed, I sit back down next to Karinia's cot. She bites her lip.
"I told you not to make me laugh," she hisses.
I hold my head in my hands and groan. Prince Ephraim's army arrived just in time to rescue us from defeat. And I had to stare before I even recognised him.
"But tell me, brother, how is everyone? Are they safe?"
"They're safe."
They speak in low tones, but I'm shamed that I can easily overhear them... and what's more, that I want to.
"Tana?"
"Tending to her mount as we speak."
"And L'Arachel?"
"The Princess of Rausten? She's been helping to heal her troops, I believe."
"And... And Seth?" My heart thuds as she speaks his name.
"A little dinted, but none the worse for wear."
She lets out a breath. "Good." A pause and then, "You're sure?"
"I'm sure. Now... You should get your res–"
"Sir Seth, you really ought not to go in–"
My heart hammers and I glance up to see him march into the room, looking as if he were about to march into battle. He comes to a halt as he glimpses Prince Ephraim. Sister Natasha follows. "I was about to tell you, Sir Seth," she says, "that Prince Ephraim is already with the princess."
"My Lord," Sir Seth says, with a low bow.
"Please..." Sister Natasha says. "The patients need to rest."
Prince Ephraim smiles down at the Princess and then rises to his feet. "I was just leaving, Sister."
Sir Seth remains fixed, shoulders squared, standing ramrod straight. His russet locks are a matted mess and his face is smudged with dirt– or dried blood perhaps– and I desperately want to reach out to him, to wash away the traces of battle, to feel his skin under my fingertips, the stubble on his chin...
Prince Ephraim pauses next to Sir Seth and claps him on the shoulder. "She's fine," he says. "She was knocked clean out, but she's awake now."
"My Lord, I'm sorry. It was my duty to protect the Princess and–"
"And so you did. Didn't you hear me? She's fine. Now go see her so she won't pester me anymore about whether you're in one piece."
The Prince leaves and, for a moment, Sir Seth lingers there. Tucked into the corner as we are, he seems not to even notice Karinia and me, and I'm afraid to speak.
As he sinks down next to her cot and takes her hand in both of his, more than anything else, it's the way he says her name that makes my heart ache. "Lady Eirika..."
"Seth... You're all right." Her relief is as clear as the night air. She's smiling; she must be. How could she not with him grasping her hand and looking down at her with such concern, such tenderness. I would give anything to have him look at me that way, even for just a moment.
"How are you, my lady?"
"I'm fine. Really. Just a bit of a headache."
He frowns and shakes his head. I'm surprised by his tone when he speaks again, angry almost. That a knight should reproach his princess is unfathomable. "What were you thinking? Going up against Valter the Moonstone?"
"I didn't. He came after me."
"What?"
"He said... he said he wanted to... tame me."
Sir Seth is completely silent, and the expression on his face is all the more frightful for it, like gathering storm clouds about to burst into a tempest.
"And..." Princess Eirika begins. "Seth... it was him. He's the one who came after us that night." Sir Seth remains silent but Princess Eirika's voice is taut with emotion so that I feel shamed for sitting here listening, no better than a peeping tom or a village gossip. "If I could have slain him with my own hand, I would have... to repay him for what he did to you." Her tone is steely. Everyone says the princess of Renais if the most gentle of creatures– save when forced to defend her kingdom. Or those she loves.
When he speaks, his tone is grave. "It's not your place to avenge me, Princess."
"I know that. I know and yet..."
For a few moments neither speaks and then finally he heaves a sigh. "It's a moot point. From what I was told, Cormag slew Valter and avenged his brother. You're fortunate he arrived when he did. If Valter had harmed you..."
She frees her hand from his and reaches out to brush a lock of matted hair away from his eyes and my heart thrums horribly. To be so close, to watch another do what I so long to... She lets her fingers trail down his cheek and he captures that wandering hand in both of his. "Lady Eirika, when everyone is recovered it's almost certain that Lord Ephraim will have us march on Renais."
"Home... We'll be going home. I can hardly believe it."
"We'll have to take the castle first. When we do, I ask only that you stay close to me."
"I didn't mean to worry you today, Seth. I'm sorry."
"Eirika."
My heart leaps into my throat. He should not call her so. Even a trusted retainer, one so long in service to the royal family should not call a princess by her name. Even less should he bring her hand to his lips and hold it there a moment.
"Rest," he says then and without saying any more he rises and takes his leave, never noticing me tucked away in the corner.
For several minutes afterward I'm silent, frozen. When I had overheard the princess confess her feelings all those weeks ago, I had thought Sir Seth sympathetic but... detached. I had thought he valued his duty before the whims of his heart. I had thought I still had some glimmer of hope, but now, in the flickering light of the pavilion, hope slips away like a fire without fuel.
I start as I feel a hand squeezing mine. I glance down and Karinia is smiling at me. "You always did like the stuffy ones," she whispers.
I smile wryly. "Is it that obvious?"
Karinia bites her lip for a moment and then, "I told you not to make me laugh." She squeezes my hand and after a few minutes more I slink out of the healers' pavilion to finally get some rest.