Return to Caer Lon (17 page)

Chapter 17

The
water felt cold on her skin. Sacha cupped her hands to wash her face once and then again. She was trembling. She didn’t know how to stop. She wasn’t trembling before, when she had to push her magic into the fire
. I
t was consuming her, ravaging her insides. She had had to get rid of it before it burnt her alive. She wasn’t trembling then. Her hands were also steady when she was tend
ing
to Derek. She could not have cleaned his wound and knotted the bandage properly with shaking hands. So why was she trembling now?

The
g
ash on his hand was not too deep, though it
had
bled profusely. So much blood… She rubbed her hands under the water. Derek’s blood stained her hands.
No… No, please no
. She couldn’t… She had to stay calm, she had to...
Don’t panic. Breathe normally. He’s fine, everything’s fine…
It hurt when she breathed. The back of her throat was burning. The water was so cold.
There were waves of nausea in
her stomach. She was going to be ill…

One hand touched her shoulder and she jumped upright.

“My
l
ady, let me help…”

Gisela guided her gently toward the stool Derek had deserted. The maid used a fresh cloth to dry her hands and face, then she untied the long dark curls to brush humidity away from them. The smoothing helped Sacha’s frantic pulse to decrease slowly until comfort finally sank in.

“Thank you.”

The maid returned the timid smile and finished braiding her hair before she clipped the hazel
wood comb into place. Then she turned to Derek:

“My
l
ord, on Fridays the market is always frenzied so tomorrow you should be able to leave the city undetected. With all the coming and going from the merchants, none can possibly notice…”

Derek bowed his head thoughtfully before answering:

“It’s a good idea.”

“I have to go now. I will bring back everything I can. Please help yourself
to
anything you need.”

Sacha smiled again at the blonde woman, which returned it with friendliness. Gisela gave a quick bow to Derek, and then disappeared in the rain.

Derek cast a quick glance toward the windows to make sure the gush of wind escorting the servant out didn’t disturb the curtains protecting them. In this weather, the chances of anyone watching the street were nearly n
i
l, but Sacha understood his caution.

Now the aftershock was gone
;
she felt empty and weak as a kitten. Even walking to go lie down on the bed in the opposite corner seemed like a colossal task.

The small room was very simply furnished. The table was paired with two stools, including hers, and a small bench. A dent in the wall covered by a roughly cut cloth served as pantry. An old chest, probably full with Gisela’s more precious possessions, lay half hid
den
under the bed.

The last and only adorned piece in the room intrigued her. The dark wood
en
cradle was carved with birds and trees, tarnished iron circled its belly. Forgetting about fatigue, Sacha approached it to run one finger on the metal, fascinated. The material vibrated under her touch, breaking into a soft song. Her heartbeat adjusted to the peaceful rhythm of the baby carol. She recognized the air; her mother used to sing it when she was little, a light and happy ballad. Sacha hummed the song softly.

“Sacha?”

Derek’s call pulled her out of her trance. Blushing, she turned and noticed his surprised stare. The song had been only in her head. It felt so real…

“It was hers… His father made it as a bridal present for her mother. They were happy.”

“You can’t possibly know that.”

She tried to explain the images pulsing in her head. A man built like a bull carving the wood; a blonde woman cradling a baby girl with a tender smile. It was so clear… Love had nestled in the cradle, and left its print in the wood. Gold and pink spiralled in her mind, brushing over her stomach. She flinched despite the gentleness of the caress.

Sacha pressed one hand to her stomach, surprised. The air scintillated before her, sparkling with joy and hope. The child in the cradle had blond hair with the warbling smile of healthy babies.

“Oh, he’s so pretty…”

Her green eyes swiped over Derek’s handsome face, unable to conceal his features with her vision.

“He’s yours!”

“What?! Of course not
.
I didn’t…”

Blushing furiously, Derek took his hand away from the crib. Sacha bowed her head to hide her embarrassment. She had seen Derek’s son, she was sure of it. The baby was adorable, and she… The young woman shook her head to clear the last bits of magic from her mind.

Looking for her composure, Sacha looked around once more at the mantle, then back to Derek. Her gaze grazed his hand, immobile along his side.

“Does it hurt?”

Awkwardness
r
ose
another level. Derek folded his arms across his chest, hiding the bandage from her sight.

“No. Now if you don’t mind, I have to think about our getaway tomorrow.”

She furrowed her brows at the harsh reply, unable to overlook it completely.

“It depends a lot on what Gisela will bring back… Let’s hope she will think about some of my clothes… This dress…”

Sacha trailed off. The cloth itched her skin and after two days of wearing it
;
she refused to think about how it smel
led
. In no way she was going to admit that to Derek, though.

“With proper clothing I can hide your sword and your cloak so…”

“I beg your pardon?”

She grinned at the shock in his voice and eyed his outfit.

“You can’t hide the fact
that
you’re a knight when you carr
y
that sword. And you have to admit, Derek, red is not discreet…”

“They’re mine.”

A dangerous gleam flashed in his stare. Sacha held his gaze and her skin started to tingle again. The fire burning in his eyes was spreading around him already, just like it had in the library. She broke the eye contact and swallowed. She understood his meaning. His colors, his sword, were a part of him; his birthright.

Her breath caught when her hands closed on his folded arms. She didn’t remember approaching him. Under her palm, everything became clearer. He was proud, yes, but more than anything he longed to prove himself; he had such a strong heart…

Derek gently unclenched her fingers from his sleeve.

“I really wish you would stop doing that.”

Sacha looked up again, surprised and slightly ashamed by her momentary lapse.

“Doing what?”

“Manipulating me into doing your will.”

“I am not-”

He interrupted her denial, which was just as well because her cheeks were growing embarrassingly hot.

“I am a reasonable man. If you suggest something sensible, instead of shrewdly trying to bend me to your wishes or to boss me around, I am going to listen.”

Reasonable? Sensible? She seriously doubted that. And she never tried to manipulate anyone, let alone giving him orders, he was damned to stubborn anyway! Sacha took a deep breath to calm down before she said something she would regret later.

“So; does it make sense to you to try keeping a low profile, and avoid showing you are Prince Derek, the captain of Haven
's
k
nights?”

He answered her sulk with one of his best sneers, which she was one heartbeat close to whip off his face with a slap.

“Yes, actually it does.”

oOo

Sacha sighed discreetly and moved a little to find a more comfortable position. The night’s events kept bouncing back at her; the attack mixed with her visions were denying her of a much-needed rest.

She shifted again on the bed. They had stayed up late, waiting for Gisela’s return, and afterward assessing the options their belongings offered. 

For a good part of their vigil, she and Derek had argued about their next moves. After a while, they had fallen silent, maybe realizing the bickering was fruitless, or seeking comfort in the silence and each other’s company. At least she was; she could not tell for Derek. Sometimes, she had no means of knowing what was going on inside his head.

She turned cautiously to avoid disturbing Gisela who was lying next to her, and opened her eyes. Derek had deserted his own narrow bunk to resume his watch by the fire. He was probably reviewing each step of their escape plan, one by one.

Derek had his chin on his good hand, his elbow resting on his knee, and his left arm along his thigh. For an instant, Sacha thought about joining him but decided against it, preferring not to disturb his rest, if it was one. Even in deep thoughts, he looked powerful, and reassuring.

The idea intrigued her. She had seen him calm and wistful more often in those past four days than she had in her entire life. Sacha wondered if she simply had forgotten to pay attention. Warmth rose in the pit of her stomach at the thought, uncomfortably pleasant.

“Derek is a good man.”

Gisela’s murmur
at
her back gave Sacha a turn.

“Yes, he is.”

“And rather handsome. Are you two betrothed?”

Sacha blushed, and she felt grateful to have her back to her curious new friend.

“Good Lord
,
no!”

Her exclamation echoed in the quiet room Sacha anxiously peeped at the shadows on the wall, alarmed Derek might have heard her. None flinched and she concentrated on Gisela’s next question.

“Why not? You obviously care a lot about each other.”

The notion might apply to her, Sacha thought. She did care about the man seated a few feet away. She generally avoided defining the feeling, but it was care; maybe even tenderness, with a hint of jealousy and a good portion of annoyance. And desire, if she was perfectly honest. Her feelings toward Derek were definitely a strange mix, but…

“Derek never showed… He does not regard me as a potential
p
rincess.”

Nor did I ever admit I
w
ould consider him as husband material,
did
I?

She turned to face her accidental confidant, looking for an answer to her mute question on the other woman’s gentle features.

“A
p
rincess?”

Sacha felt her cheeks warmed once more against the rough fabric of the sheet. They had taken care
to
keeping Derek’s true identity from Gisela, and with one slip of her tongue, she had blown his cover. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She was just useless. Her head drifted into ridiculous fantasies and she acted like those idiots drooling around Derek she couldn’t stand. No wonder he thought so little of her! She tried to sweet-talk her way out.

“Yes, a
p
rincess, like in bard’s tales. The brave
k
night turns into Prince Charming in those, doesn’t he?”

Gisela chuckled, probably reading through her obvious lie.

“Life is not a bard’s song, Sacha.” Late
at
night, nestled under the wool blanket, titles and formal addresses were overrated. “If you find a man that suits your needs, don’t wait for declarations of undying love and minstrel’s nonsense or you will wait for a long time. If Derek is what you want, you should act upon it. I’m sure you know how.”

Sacha fell silent, looking for something to retort. This conversation started to look a lot like Ylianor’s
"
vinegar versus honey
"
lectures. Sleep would have been a great excuse to divert the topic, but it still eluded her. She could not even yawn. Her neck yearned to turn for another glimpse at him. Granted, not to revel
i
n his appeal; no, of course not
.
T
hat would be disgrac
eful
, just…

“You have an amazing gift.”

M
agic was far from the best subject as well
;
yet she found it safer than the uncharted romantic territories.

“I see fragments of possible futures. Sometimes it is just a sensation, like this evening. I… I had a vision about a baby
.
Derek’s son
.
”
W
hy was everything taking her back to him?!
“I wish I could describe it for you. It was warm and brilliant
,
and so wonderful… I liked it better than my other visions.”

She thought of the nightmares, of her panicked
awakenings
, her heart bouncing madly to escape her chest and her throat so tight it hurt. Magic didn’t seem amazing then. Sacha changed the subject once more.