Sleepers (2 page)

I held up my hand and Mags stopped talking. “I’ve heard it all before. No need to tell me the rest. I’m sure I’ll find out someday why my parents gave me up, but talking about it isn’t going to lead to any answers. I have to wait.”

Mags looked at me with sad, dark eyes, and nodded in agreement. Then, as if to signal the close of the topic, she held up her index finger, and spun it around in the air, motioning me to turn around. It was time for Trevin’s mid-morning snack. I averted my eyes. We were friends, but I didn’t want to see her nursing Trevin, and she understood it made me uncomfortable.

I stood and wandered to the window. The crowds milled about, not yet breaking up even though the men’s bodies were already removed from the courtyard. I looked out on the river in the distance. Leagues upriver the border to my homeland would be guarded, posts every five miles or so with tall towers. A byre laid in wait in each tower, to be lit in case of an emergency. Within moments a signal of fire would be seen and the next would be lit. They would know in a few moments of an attack from my people.

Yet an attack never came. They were subdued. Quiet. Obedient. Yet these three men came. They weren’t brandishing swords or leading an army. We hadn’t heard why they were here, only that they broke the treaty and were sentenced to death.

“You can look again.” I turned back. Mags’ gown now covered part of Trevin’s head.

“Do you really think it isn’t an honor for them to give us up?” I asked, going back to our conversation. I changed my mind. Maybe I wasn’t quite ready to stop talking about it. “We’ve been told to believe it was an honor for our parents.”

There were days I wasn’t sure what was true. I had trouble reconciling what I was told by my teachers and what I felt in my gut. The peaceful river out the window or the stories of violence and death
—
which was the truth?

Mags pulled Trevin out from under her gown and stroked his hair. A little milk pooled on his chin and his gums smacked together in satisfaction. I smiled at him. His olive skin, so smooth like his mother’s, always charmed me. Whenever I held him in my arms, I reveled in the contrast.
His skin dark and mine, so pale.

“You shouldn’t always believe what you’re told,” she said. “I’ve heard things, seen things, you wouldn’t believe. Being the king’s wife gives me accessibility to the most interesting discussions. Being a woman makes me invisible. They are quick to ignore me, but I listen anyway.”

Mags fluffed up her pillow again and scooted back against it. I wondered if she grew bored with lying down all the time, but it was customary for the queen to stay down for at least three months after giving birth. Kings wanted to be sure their wives would be healthy to bear more boys. Mags had proven her reproductive worth by producing three boys.

“I’m going to eat soon. Do you want to stay here with me or take some time to meet up with Kellan?” Mags asked. “I’m guessing with the confusion of the hanging, no one is going to notice if you two spend a little time together.”

A smile spread across my face. I couldn’t help it. Everything was so new with us and I stole every moment I could to be with Kellan. I’d followed him around like a puppy for years and he’d only recently paid attention to me. A blush crept across my face. He did far more than pay attention to me now.

“Thank you!” I pushed the hanging, and my homeland, to the back of my mind. It was over and it wasn’t like I knew those men. We had no real connection.

“And if you see your sister,” Mags said, “send her here. She didn’t show up this morning and we need to have a little chat.”

I nodded, not caring what Albree did this time. Kellan and I had unfinished business and I had a lesson to teach him.

The muscle in his forearm twitched as he readied himself for the attack. Backhand, probably, from the position of his arm. He could easily swing it around to a forehand punch but my reflexes were faster, more finely tuned. I could block him with little effort, duck down, and spin while kicking my leg out. He’d be on the ground in seconds.

I wanted to grin, but I held back. Instead I stood firm in my fighting stance, waiting for him to make the first move. I had him again.

“I love you, Lianne,” he said, trying to distract me. His sideways grin usually melted my insides, but not now. I refused to look at his face while we sparred. I couldn’t believe he’d think that would work on me. My toes dug into the dirt floor. I wouldn’t lose my grip, not now.

Kellan’s hand flew toward my face and the scene played out just as I thought it would. He fell backward while his arms jerked out to the sides, slapping the floor. We did this to break the fall otherwise we’d hurt our backs all the time.

I giggled, seeing his eyes close and tighten as frustration took over. After all these years, he still had a hard time believing a girl could beat him. Lucky for him, no one had ever seen him lose. Girls weren’t allowed to fight, especially not an adoptee like myself. Technically he wasn’t allowed to fight either, but since he was adopted by the arms master, he was given some leeway to assist with training. Everyone knew he could deliver a hard blow. My skills remained a secret.

“Why do you insist on torturing me, Lianne?” He rolled on his side and his red hair flopped over his forehead. His light blue eyes peered at me from underneath the curtain of his hair. If magic hadn’t been bled from our people after the war, I would swear he had cast a spell over me.

I collapsed next to him on the floor of his father’s private training room. The sweet tang of his sweat drifted into my nose and glistened on his chest. I wanted to touch him, but our relationship was too new, too precious, for me to reach for him first. It had only been a month since his sixteenth birthday, the night when he seemed to see me for the first time. Well, at least see me as a girl and not a sparring partner.

“Come here.” Kellan rolled on his side and pulled me into his arms. He kissed the top of my forehead as I eased my way into his embrace. My heart pounded and my body tingled. Closing my eyes, I snuggled my face into his neck, smelling an adorable mixture of dirt and oranges. Was this real? If it wasn’t, I didn’t want to know.

“Your birthday is tomorrow,” he whispered in my ear. “I have a surprise for you.”

“One hint?” I begged.

“Patience,” he said, running his fingers through my hair. I shivered and hoped he didn’t notice. I had no experience with other boys. In my mind, Kellan was the only boy worth hoping for.

As for him, well I didn’t know if he’d loved other girls before me.

I was the only female adoptee in the palace, but I’d seen the native girls gaze under their dark eyelashes at his height and porcelain skin. I didn’t blame them for wanting something different from the native Fithian boys. The three of us were oddities, exotic oddities. Of course, wanting and having were two different things. We weren’t allowed to intermarry with them. It was punishable by death, or worse, banishment back to our homeland. With only three adoptees, it wasn’t a hard rule to enforce.

“Why?” I asked him. “Why did you see me, as a girl not just a friend? On your birthday, I mean?” I knew I sounded like an idiot. My cheeks flamed at my stupid questions.

But Kellan smiled. He knew what I meant, like he could read my mind. “Let’s just say I had an epiphany on my birthday. I’ll tell you more on yours. It’s part of your surprise.”

It wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear and really didn’t make much sense, but as long as I was in his arms I didn’t care.

“Will you two get up off the floor?” A shrill voice from behind interrupted us.

Kellan rolled over, not letting me out of his arms. I looked over his shoulder and saw my sister standing in the doorway.
My adopted sister, Albree.
Curvy and petite, just like the rest of the native girls. Her dark ringlets hung over her shoulders, cascading over her shoulder and resting between the
cleavage
of her low-cut gown. It reminded me so much of Mags’ hair, well except I thought Mags was beautiful and Albree made my stomach turn. She’d never been kind to me, neither had our mother.

“It’s disgusting. You could be related, you know. You look enough alike to be.” Albree sauntered over to us, her hips swaying with every step. I couldn’t watch her without being reminded how plain I was compared to her.

I was supposed to be grateful for being adopted, being saved from starvation and poverty as part of the post-war agreement, but I wasn’t. Albree never let me forget I was different; never let me believe for a moment I could fit in.

“Is there a problem here?” Kellan’s father Aric strode into the fighting practice room.

“No sir.” Albree dropped into a curtsey. Her mother was only a lady-in-waiting, below Aric in social status. Kellan and I never received any respect from Albree, but she followed courtly behavior better than anyone we knew. Our mother pounded it into her brain from the day she was born. Albree never forgot her station, which is what made her feel she could pick on me whenever she wanted. She may not be ranked higher than a lot of people in the castle, but she believed she was better than me.

“You two.” He pointed to us with a beefy finger. “Up off the floor.”

Kellan released his grip, but stroked the back of my arm quickly with his thumb. The shivers raced over my skin again. We’d only been together a month and still there were days I felt like I needed to pinch myself.
Kellan and me, a couple?
It was unreal. We stood and Kellan slung his arm around my shoulders.

“Albree, if you’re not out of here in two seconds I’m going to inform your mother that instead of doing your duties you were spying on the crown’s honor guard.” Aric took his duties very seriously. Even though my people, the Dalagans, who fled and lived in exile in the desert and were subservient to the whims of the Fithians, no longer fought back, the Fithian army practiced every day, never resting to protect their kingdom.

That’s what I’d been taught, at least. Dalagans were bad. Fithians were good. The victors determined history and my people had no voice. I was sure that’s the way it always worked. I wanted to know both sides of the story, but I’d resigned myself to the fact that I’d probably never know.

“Mags was looking for you this morning too, Albree. She told me if I saw you to let you know you’re expected,” I said.

Albree ignored me, sashayed over to Kellan, and ran her fingernail down his arm. I watched for goose bumps, but they didn’t come. He was a master at controlling his feelings. Almost anyone would respond to a touch like that, even if it was to shudder in revulsion. Instead Kellan stood still and stared over Albree’s head to the wall behind her.

“I meant what I said yesterday.” She whispered loud enough for me to hear too. “Anytime.
Anyplace, Kellan.
She’s nothing compared to me.”

My blood boiled and my stomach turned. How dare she? She knew about us, that we were together. Didn’t she care?

I glanced over to Aric, but he was busy sharpening knives for his upcoming weapons training class. While his eyes were focused on us, over the grating noise of the whetstone he couldn’t hear a word.

“Leave her alone.” Kellan’s eyes narrowed as he stared Albree down. She didn’t flinch. “I swear, if you keep treating Lianne this way I’ll kill you.”

Albree laughed again. I’d hated her cruel laugh since I was little. I hated it even more now.

“I’m not afraid of you, Kellan. In fact, I’d welcome any part of you touching me. I’d think you’d find it a nice change.”

She flipped her curls over her shoulder and she spun around, her hips rocking from side-to-side as she left the training room. I looked down at my
body,
flat in every place she had curves. Dalagans weren’t known for their curves. Growing up surrounded by girls who developed early and quickly hadn’t done much for my self-esteem. I had to remind myself frequently I couldn’t change how my body developed.

Kellan’s face relaxed as he loped over to my side. His arm draped across my shoulders again.

“If you had a body like hers, then you’d never beat me when we fight,” he said.

“Would you like me better that way?” I had to know.

Kellan laughed. “Are you kidding? She makes me sick. All of her people make me sick. I’d rather be alone the rest of my life than bed her once. Or anyone like her.”

“But your father,” I motioned over to Aric, who no longer paid attention to us now that Albree was gone. “You love him.”

“I love what he can teach me about fighting,” Kellan said. “I also love that he’s never raised a hand against me. Aric has been good to me. For that I respect him. But love him? Never.”

I could understand. My adoptive
mother,
had never been kind to me. In fact, she treated me poorly, but she never raised a hand against me. I served the queen and a bruise would be questioned. I was protected because of my menial job.

Mags married King Rotlar at the age of twelve and by eighteen she’d already given the king three sons. It was during Matthew’s birth that we became close. She sent Albree for the midwife and I stayed by her side while we waited. She and I were close friends, but we never allowed anyone to know. It wouldn’t be good for either of us, and probably worse for her than me.

“If only we could be free.” I ran my hand up and down Kellan’s arm, feeling his muscles, still tight and warm from our workout. “I want to go back to our homeland now. Only four more years until we’re sent back. On a boat.” I shuddered at the thought of stepping off the land. Sometimes I felt sick just looking at the river sway and bounce.