“Let me do that,” he said, trying to take it out of my hands.
“No, I can do it.” I jerked the table away from him, and carried it to its spot beside the sofa.
Jamie picked up a dining chair in each hand.
“Stop.” I took one of the chairs from him. “I’ve got this.”
“Why won’t you let me help you?”
I set the chair down and whirled on him. “Why don’t you trust me?”
“O’ course I trust you.” His brows scrunched over his eyes. “Though I dinna think you’re referrin’ to your ability to move furniture. What
are
you talkin’ about?”
“I’ve been waiting for an entire day.” I stalked toward him. “Twenty-four whole hours for you to tell me what you learned while surveying the borders. But you’ve said nothing!”
Jamie widened his stance and crossed his massive arms in front of his chest, but his intimidation tactics wouldn’t work on me.
“The moment I saw your face at the dance, I knew you’d learned something terrible. If it hadn’t been for Kenna, who was told by Duncan . . . who isn’t even technically with Kenna . . . I would’ve had to guess what was happening.”
“I wanted to — ”
“No! No lame excuses. We have an accepted Calling! That’s practically like being engaged. How could you keep this from me, Jamie?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw, and his expression shut down.
I jabbed a finger into his chest, and demanded, “Am I the queen or aren’t I? If I don’t know what’s going on, how am I supposed to protect my people?”
He stared down at the floor so long, I began to notice the ticking of the clock that hung over the mantel. Finally, his shoulders slumped and he raised his head, his eyes dark with anguish. “You
are
the queen, Vee. But they’re
our
people. Ye
were never meant to do this alone — that’s what the Completing is about. A partnership where two individuals balance each other’s strengths and weaknesses.”
He sighed and focused on something behind my head. “I dinna want to be your consort.”
“My what?” I squeaked, my eyes flaring wide.
“Paramour, consort . . . ye know.” He raised his hands and made awkward air quotes. “Yer
boy toy
.”
“What the — Where did you hear
that
?”
“Duncan may have mentioned . . .” He suddenly became enraptured by the toe of his boot as he mumbled, “Tha’s what they call it in the modern world when a boy is so in love with a girl, he does everythin’ she tells him to do.”
I could just see Duncan taunting his brother about being
whipped
. It made me want to give the younger prince a high kick to his fat head. Or better yet, put him in the stocks for a day. That would teach the jerk a lesson. “Jamie, you could never be — ”
His eyes locked on mine, and I was silenced by the intensity of his gaze. “I couldna bring myself to tell you about the limbus, because I felt like I’d let ye down. I was waitin’ until I could provide some ray of hope, a possible solution. But it’s what I came up here tonight to tell you . . . I received word from Adam. He believes the limbus is growing not just around Doon, but inward as well. With every acre it destroys, it seems to be gaining speed.”
I sunk into a nearby chair and dropped my head into my hands. What if my detractors were right, and all I’d done was open the kingdom to evil? Maybe if I stepped down from the throne, it would stop.
“Vee, love?” Jamie knelt in front of me. When I raised my head, he brushed my hair out of my face. “Dinna worry. We’ll figure something out.”
“A queen has never before been Called to Doon, right?”
He searched my face and then nodded. “Tha’s true.”
“Well, I want to give you back your throne.” I reached behind me, picked up my crown, and shoved it toward him. “Take it. I don’t want it anymore.”
“No.” He rolled back on his haunches and stood.
“Don’t you see?” I shot to my feet, the crown still in my hand as I gestured wildly. “This could all be my fault for bringing the cursed journal here in the first place. You are the rightful ruler, Jamie. I became queen by default. All I wanted to do was save you — ”
“Nay, that isna true. You sacrificed everything to save Doon. You could’ve died! I’ve never seen a more courageous act in my life.” He took the crown from my fist and tossed it onto the sofa. “You’ve always been part of the Protector’s plan. I knew that from the moment I saw you in my dreams.”
I stared up into his face, breathing hard. “Right. And then you were convinced those dreams were actually nightmares.” A shadow passed across his eyes before he could hide it. “See? You’d be better off without me. You all would.” I turned on my heel, intent on storming to my bedroom for a good cry, but Jamie took my arm and spun me back around to face him.
“Vee, don’t you understand? You
own
me.” He clutched a fist and brought it to his chest, his eyes slicing into my soul. “Everything I do is for you. I’m doing my best to support you and protect you, but I couldna be king without you. I wouldna want to. We’re meant to rule side by side. To
live
side by side.”
In the space of a heartbeat, I was in his arms. Afraid I was about to go into the ugly cry, I buried my face in his shoulder. How could I have been so wrong? About
him.
About
us.
My chest expanded with light until I thought I might burst with it. He
did
believe in me. I’d just been too blinded by my own inse
curity to see it. There was a massive difference between what Janet did and what was between Jamie and me — he’d never expected me to change for him.
I sniffled and wiped the moisture from under my eyes.
“We can do this, love. We’ll find a way to lead the kingdom together.” He leaned back and tipped my chin up. “If ye stop being so blasted stubborn and let me help you.”
“Only if you promise to stop being so bossy.” I fought the grin that was trying to break out across my face.
“Promise.” He nodded solemnly.
“And stop being so crazy protective.”
Jamie rolled his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head. “All right, I’ll try. But . . .” He put me at arm’s length and glanced down with a wicked smirk. “Only if ye stop wearin’ these wee, skin-tight trousers. Otherwise, we might need to get someone to protect you from me.”
“Sorry, I can’t make that promise.” I tilted my head, my eyes meeting his in challenge. “I like to keep you on your toes.”
“Oh, ye do, aye?” With a quick grin, he reached beneath my knees and scooped me up into his arms. It felt right. Like I’d regained a piece of myself that’d been missing. And then I realized that part of the Protector’s will for me was gazing into my eyes that very moment.
Perhaps one right step at a time was enough.
I
wandered through the darkness of royal gardens looking for a quiet spot to decompress. Today had been
a lot
. . .
I’d woken up this morning with my stomach in knots at the idea of going to church. For Doonians, especially those like Duncan, faith was integral to their culture. Each Sunday they came together in the Auld Kirk to thank their Protector. Last time around, Vee and I had both been on the outside looking in. This time she was their leader, and I was the odd American out.
I spectated from the back row next to Emily and Analisa. Vee’d invited me to sit with her, but I’d assumed that would mean sitting next to Duncan in front of the whole kingdom — awkwardly on display again.
Turned out that I’d worried for nothing. The younger prince was noticeably MIA. I assumed he’d taken the first shift of “training exercises” along the border until Analisa made a snarky comment about him not being much of a churchgoer — which proved she didn’t know him as well as she thought. If
Doon chose a poster boy for their beliefs, it would be Duncan. Or so I thought.
But once the service ended and I followed the crowd outside, Duncan materialized from the ether. With a wink to Analisa, he slipped into the receiving line next to his brother as if he’d been there the whole time.
Before I could get to the bottom of his holy hooky, Vee whisked me away to a boring luncheon and then an afternoon of social calls — with more grub at every stop. After the obligatory sampling of savory pies, Scotch eggs, sausage rolls, bridies, bangers and mash, shortbread, and half a dozen puddings, I felt like Little Red after a bakery binge. When stars began appearing in the indigo sky and we finally returned to the castle, we were each eager to go our separate way. To my immense relief, there’d been no talk of supper.
Rejecting the temptation to laze about like an overstuffed Garfield, I decided to go for a walk hoping the outdoors wouldn’t be too crowded. Castle MacCrae housed nearly half the people it employed, especially the young ones — which made total sense. Who would want to live with their parents when they could have a condo-like setup with all the castle amenities — including an awesome green space? But it made getting some alone time a bit more challenging.
Torches lit gray graveled paths that wound through acres of unique gardens containing everything from perfectly sculpted lawns with large hedgerows to chaotic patches of overgrown wildflowers. Couples occupied the occasional bench or strolled languidly down the widest of the lanes. A guy I vaguely recognized as one of the Destined jogged by, saluting me as he passed.
On the great lawn, a small but boisterous group had commenced an impromptu karaoke night — apparently it was a
grand night for singing. Although their tune was unfamiliar, it had the distinct meter of a drinking song. Apropos since to counteract the nip in the air, they were passing around a bottle.
Thankful I had thought to grab a shawl, I draped it over my shoulders and set off in the opposite direction of the revels in search of something more private . . . my own little secret garden. After a couple of twists and turns, I discovered a perfect, secluded spot lit by flickering torches.
The duality of the new Duncan weighed heavily on me. Did I really know him as well as I thought? Perhaps Analisa now held the distinction of knowing him best . . . because he was as open and honest with her as he’d once been with me?
As much as I wanted to believe there was a chance for us, I wasn’t sure my wounded heart would survive the wishing.
Ever since middle school, I’d worked through tangled emotional knots by singing. Vee called it “musical processing.” Back in Chicago during the month of Ben & Jerry’s, I clung to a weepy rendition of “Without You” as my signature song. That seemed like the obvious place to start now. Taking a deep, controlled breath, I let my eyes drift shut and focused on enunciating as I immersed myself in the first verse. The night absorbed my voice so that I had to make tiny adjustments for pitch and volume. But by the refrain, I’d become one with my instrument.
Song followed song, one after another. I rooted my feet into the earthen stage and let the melodies flow, spending myself in the dynamic emotions of requited and unrequited love until I felt empty — not like a bad void of nothing, but empty of turmoil. Cathartic empty. Ready to fill my vessel with something fresh and positive.
For my big finish, I ended with one of my all-time favorites from
A Chorus Line
. New understanding filled my consciousness as I belted out an unapologetic version of “What I Did for
Love.” Focused solely on the song, the words, my voice soared higher and louder with each note, building into a mighty crescendo that vibrated through every pore. In the roaring silence that followed, I giddily swiped at my face with trembling hands.
My pulse thundered in my ears so loudly that I almost missed the slow, deliberate clap of an uninvited audience. I whirled toward the sound as a deep voice said, “I’d nearly forgotten what a lovely singing voice you have.”
Holy Hammerstein!
Duncan lounged in a heavily shadowed patch of grass. Propped up on his elbows, his legs were prone, as if he’d recently been staring up at the stars. He sat forward just enough that I could see traces of stardust sparkling in his eyes.
My heart pounded even harder as I realized that he’d been watching me in the dark. Half of me wanted to yell at him for being an eavesdropping creeper while the other half — the part that yearned for his approval like oxygen — was desperate to hear what he thought. Another glance into his glittering eyes and the battle was over.
I crossed to a wide stone bench near his feet and perched on the end. “I didn’t know you’d ever heard me sing.”
“Aye, a time or two.” He leaned back, letting the shadows overtake him. Despite not being able to see his face, my skin prickled with the awareness of his scrutiny. “Like when the queen brought on the blizzard that nearly destroyed us. You sang half the night away.”
“I remember.” It was a dark, tempestuous night in every way possible. After Duncan had been put in his place by his older brother and ordered to babysit me, he’d brooded while I wandered the confines of his turret chamber, warbling show tunes. Tons of them. But as far as I could recall, I’d mostly hummed them under my breath.
I scooted forward, trying to find his face in the night. “When else have you heard me sing?”
“You sing every chance you get. Half the time I don’t think you’re even aware of it.” While that sure sounded like me, I couldn’t help feeling like he was dodging the question. After the long day, the last thing I wanted was to trade banter with a boy who couldn’t give me a straight answer.
Rising to my feet, I dropped into a deep bow. “Glad I could entertain.” Then I turned my back on him and headed toward Castle MacCrae.
I hadn’t managed more than a half dozen steps when he said softly, “Chicago . . . I saw your show in Chicago.”
I froze.
“You were luminescent. Like the sun rising in the east. If I had any doubt as to where you belonged, seeing you on that stage . . . You were created for that world.”
I turned, and when I did, I saw that Duncan was sitting up. Although no longer in shadow, he still appeared haunted.