8. Princess Erralee

eight

"I'm not climbing up there." I eyed the jagged rock tower overlooking the small creek. I wasn't against hiking. I rather enjoyed a good walk, but this was a straight up rock-climbing situation, and I was in a dress.

Let's face it. Even if I wasn't in a dress, I still didn't want to climb that.

"I'll pull you up." Reeves' sun-bronzed arm reached out to me. He had the kind of arms that told the truth of his hard work with carved sinewy ripples and stained in scars too deep to heal. It wasn't his arms that were hard not to stare at, but his prosthetic hand. He hadn't ever mentioned it. Not that he owed me any explanation, but I wondered what it felt like. Could he even tell if I was holding it? I trusted he knew what he was doing. It didn't slow him down. Was I allowed to ask about his hand? He must have read my mind because he added, "It's safe. You aren't going to break it."

"It's quite fine. Thanks anyway, but I'll pass." Convinced solid ground was the best place for me, I stood, unmoved. "It's rather nice down here."

"I listened to you complain about your boring old bookish fiancé. You claimed you liked to do fun things." He waved his hand, inviting me over. "Prove it."

"This isn't fun." I steeled my jaw, half serious, and half wanting to flirt. Something about how his eyes glistened back at me brought the butterflies to life in my gut. "It's reckless."

"Look at it this way." He gestured in a teasing manner. "If you die, you don't have to get married."

"Well, when you put it that way," I joked, pretending to hop right in line with him, but then took a step back after he laughed. He was crazy if he thought I would skitter up after him on that thing.

"Come on." Reeves found a crevice in the rock and pulled himself up.

"No," I called after him, not adding anything else because I always understood that when faced with life-threatening situations, no is a full sentence. He climbed up another level, smirking as if he was having the best time ever.

"Suit yourself," he called down. "Stay there and be bored. It'll be good practice for your marriage."

I wasn't what you'd call a competitive person, but his words hit a nerve. One that had been niggling at me for the last few days. I didn't want to waste my life between stone walls, reading books, not living my life. This might be my last real chance to experience fun. Against my better judgment, I abandoned my good sense, slipped off my heeled sandals, and stepped forward. "You'll help me?" I called up as I stepped into the crevice.

"Sure, step in the same places I do." He stalled, waiting for me to catch up. "I climbed this thing a dozen times already. It's completely safe."

I wrapped my fingers around a jutting rock and lifted my foot up a level.

"Not that one," he quickly cautioned. "That one is wobbly."

Not sure if he was teasing, or being extra careful, I took his advice, and shimmied over an extra rock, I had to stretch way to the side, and it pulled my calf muscle into a deep stretch. This is absurd! If my father saw me do this, he'd blow smoke out of his ears. Which in a way, made it even more fun. My heart ramped up a notch, and I steadied my gaze on Reeves. He was about halfway up, which meant . . . if I fell, I'd also fall about halfway down.

I exhaled through slit lips, raising my foot the smallest level up, as I had gotten relatively good at spotting the little crevices between the rocks to put my feet in. If I looked up, it really wasn't scary. I could hear Reeves taking heavy measured breaths above me, and in an odd way that made me feel better.

I wasn't the only one struggling not to die.

"Grab my hand." Reeves was at the top, reaching his prosthetic back to me. I had no idea how I'd already made it as it hadn't been more than a couple of minutes, but it felt like an hour. I carefully reached out and wrapped my hand around his prosthetic palm. It scratched against mine, but I was impressed as he pulled me up with one swift, strong motion.

It was a tad windy as I crawled forward and found a nice spot in the center to sit. I was in awe of the view. "I can't believe I've never been up here before," I said, seeing almost the entire countryside, including my home, from here.

"I can," Reeve teased, his smile stretching wide across his face, revealing his perfect teeth. "With the way I had to twist your arm, I'm surprised I got you up here now."

"I'm more of a bottom of the valley, girl," I mused, while still feeling the heavy beat of my heart in my head. "Is this where you come to hang out?"

"I wouldn't call it a hang out." He tottered towards the edge, calling back, "Come on."

I figured he wanted me to see the view, but he got so close to the edge, his toes were hanging over. "You aren't going to push me, are you?" I half-joked. Still too nervous to stand, I crawled forward on my hands and knees.

His silvery blue eyes sparked with mischief. "No, we go down together."

"Excuse me?" I halted, not at all enjoying his tone. I slowly stood but stayed more than an arm's length away from the edge.

He nodded over the edge, and my gaze followed, finding that it was a long way down to the creek at the bottom. "Oh no!" I backed away after solving his riddle. "I'm not jumping. I'll climb down the way we came."

"You said you have six days to have fun." He extended his open hand out toward me, his eyes glistened daringly at me. "Let's start now."

Almost every part of me wanted to back away and go down how I had come, but one tiny part inside betrayed me with the loudest vote. Uttering, "someday you'll be eighty and looking back at your life, and all your memories. You'll want to remember the rush of this moment. If I died, well, then that would work out too."

Completely out of character, I took a confirming step forward as I squealed in my mind. Reeve's lips curled more with each inch I moved. "You can do this," he urged. "Consider it a puddle of water. Completely harmless."

This time he offered me his real hand, and I savored how his fingers laced through mine. His grip was sturdy and secure. My gaze fell to my hand holding onto his, and I memorized the way it felt. Something told me I'd want to remember that, too.

I crept forward, finding my path—

"Don't look down," his words of caution broke my thoughts.

I wiggled my toes to the edge until I felt them curl at the tips. "How do I know where to jump?"

"Jump forward and don't let go." He squeezed my hand tighter, and I curled my fingers safely around his.

My nerves began to unravel even more as I went through the logistics of the next few minutes. "Do I close my eyes or keep them open?"

"That's up to you."

"Oh." My breath quivered out, and I closed my eyes, squeezing them tight. "I think I'm better off dying with eyes closed."

"No, this is the opposite of dying. This is where you live." He squeezed my hand again, and it sent a shock right through me. "Remember, we go down together."

"When is this going to be?" My eyes were still closed, and I doubted I would muster up the courage to jump without him having to pull me over. "How do I get over the fear?"

"You don't." His voice came out husky as if he'd suddenly recalled a bad memory. "When you think it's the scariest to jump . . . that's when you jump."

"That sounds like a terrible idea," I spat out, but then froze. We were standing on the edge of the cliff, toes hanging over enough that a strong wind could tip me over. Something told me Reeves was trying to teach me more than just how to jump. This was a living metaphor for my entire situation. I opened one eye, peeking back at him, his eyes hovered on me with such intensity, I understood he was trying to show me my strength. I looked down, and when my life didn't immediately flash before my eyes, I was oddly calmed. I took a deep breath, and squeezed his hand as hard as I could. There was no way I would let him ditch me now, and I stepped over the ledge.

I thought it would be gradual, like the descent on a swing, but I was wrong! Gravity was instant, plummeting me down. Filling my chest with adrenaline, I screamed as if my wails were capable of poofing out a parachute.

I plunged feet-first into the frigid water. The cold should have been disabling, but it was the opposite, sparking me more awake than I'd ever felt. Adrenaline ripped through my core, filling me until I couldn't contain it anymore, and a giant smile burst onto my face.

I squeezed Reeve's hand, and he surprised me by wrapping his free arm around my waist, pulling me into him as we kicked toward the surface. His hand on my waist instantly stole the last of my breath as being in his arms awakened a spark that seemed to have a magnetic force. Even underwater I felt the heat flush across my cheeks, and my heart hammered so fast I thought it would crash through the walls of my chest. I had nearly forgotten how to swim, but his strong kicks propelled us both to the surface.

When I broke out of the water, I gasped for air. Reeves shook his head, freeing his buzzed hair from much of the dripping water. We both trod water, but neither of us let go of the other. After more than a beat, he broke the silence. "You made it."

"I did," I huffed out as I continued to kick my feet fiercely.

I doubted his lips could curl anymore, but he managed an even bigger smile, as if it alone was proof of what we had braved. "I'm proud of you."

Although I continued to smile with my lips, there was a stirring in my heart that I hadn't felt before. It made my toes curl under. I held Reeve's gaze, neither one of us flinching or making even the slightest move to let go. The stirring swelled, filling my whole chest.

My eyes traced his face, noticing everything from his strong jawline to his eyes framed with several smile crinkles in the corners. I had the urge to memorize all the visible lines of his face as there was something rare about this moment being in his arms that made me feel alive.

He slowly ran his teeth over his bottom lip, then stilled and gazed at me the way I didn't even know I needed to be looked at. Desire. It's the way a man should look at a woman, and this was the first time it had ever happened to me, making my heart speed up.

I didn't even need to kick my legs to tread water, because it felt as if I was floating. His hand slid up, cupping the back of my neck, as I leaned closer. His gaze dropped to my lips and hovered. A mere second later, he shook his chin as if pulled from a trance and his gaze shot back to shore. Releasing my hand, he focused on land and called over his shoulder, "Let's swim back."

What just happened!

Stunned, I triple blinked as I stifled a disappointed sigh and swam. Back on the riverbank, his demeanor instantly changed. Where before, he had been reaching for my hand and holding me in the water. Now he seemed to do everything he could to avert eye contact. "That was intense." I breathed loudly, hoping to stir the conversation.

"Yeah," he muttered, keeping his gaze down, as he took his boots off one at a time, dumping the water out of them. Then he spent way too much time adjusting his pant legs into them. They were suctioned to his leg with nowhere to move, but it didn't stop him from fidgeting with it while he waited for me to catch up.

"I mean, it was amazing." I paced toward him, and smiled sweetly, hoping to rekindle that spark we just shared in the water.

"Glad you lived." He stared off in the distance the way we had come, murmuring, "My chores aren't going to do themselves. And your father's probably wondering where you are?"

If there was ever a way to kill a moment, it was to bring up my father. My heart instantly plummeted, and I checked the sky. The sun was setting, bringing in hues of burnt orange. It had to be near dinner time, and my absence would not go unnoticed. "You are probably right."

"Alright." He backed away, not giving me the chance to say a proper goodbye. "Have a good night." He waved, and spun on his heel, speeding off. If I'd hadn't known better, I'd think I made him uncomfortable. How he'd gone from almost kissing me, to acting scared of me was beyond me. Did I do something wrong?

Sloshing forward with a wet dress stuck to my skin like plastic wrap, I scurried back down the path to the castle. I had lost track of time, and was going to be late for dinner. Although we hadn't discussed it, I didn't doubt that life-of-the-party King Aswell would be a guest. Father would be livid if I was even a moment late. Halfway through the forest, Weston caught up to me, equally out of breath. With my gaze on the trail ahead and a lump of dread in my throat, I called out, "Are they looking for me?"

"Not yet," he hollered back. "I told them you were napping." A mischievous smile grew on his lips. "Course, I didn't tell them you were off swimming with some wild cowboy."

"I didn't see you!" I gasped, letting my hand fly to my chest.

"I keep my distance." He chuckled, showing the small chip in his eyetooth. The one he got when he accidentally slapped his face against a fence while running after a rogue frisbee I'd thrown at him when we were young. Our lives were so entwined, it was impossible for me to remember one stage of my life without him. Even now, I was not embarrassed he saw me with Reeves. If anything, I couldn't wait to tell him all about it. "You know I always protect you." His lips rolled in casually. "It looked like you were having fun."

Sighing, as his words dared me to speak my truth, I never held back with Weston. "I did," I said wistfully. "I'm not even sure what happened, because I thought he was like this grumpy cowboy. Something about him switched … Now he's . . ." I nodded as if moving my head would help me get the words out, "fun," I almost whispered, but instead said, "I feel as if I'm living a normal life when I'm with him."

"I'm glad. He seems like he'd be a good guy for you. You have a lot in common." He pushed a small bundle toward me. "I messaged Ruenella when I saw you jump over the edge. She ran and met me with dry clothes. If your father sees you like this, he'll have an aneurysm."

"Right." My gaze shifted to the bundle. We were in the middle of the forest, and I couldn't even see the road. Weston turned his back. I didn't waste time peeling out of my soaked dress. Then I rushed to unfold the silk fabric from the bundle and slipped into one of my finest dinner dresses. "Done," I announced while stepping back onto the path. "How much time do you think we have?"

"Put it this way," Weston's voice budded with urgency. "Run!"

Weston and I ran as if our lives depended on it, laughing like kids the whole way. Something about this day didn't feel real. Starting with the most awkward drive this morning, and then a complete one-eighty event of cliff diving with a man I had a growing attraction for. Now, I was running home . . . back to my destiny of dread.

As we tore through the front door, I forced myself to slow my steps into a more lady-like pattern, in case Father was nearby. Weston cased the foyer and whispered, "It's clear." He stood tall and astute as a royal guard should, and waved me in. "Hurry."

"I'm going upstairs to powder quickly. If Father comes looking, tell him I'll be right down." I hurdled the stairs two at a time, not stopping until I was in the bathroom. I threw powder on my face and outlined my eyes in mascara. I wasn't trying to impress anyone, just avoiding trouble. My hair was still braided and tied back as Ruenella had fixed it this morning. I didn't have time to mess with it. If I took it down, I'd need to shower to fix it. Thankfully the top layer had air dried from running in the wind. I prayed nobody would question the dampness underneath as I grabbed a wrap and covered the goosebumps on my shoulders.

In the dining room, I found Mother and Ruenella.

No Father.

No King Aswell.

The table was made up with places set for both, but their plates were still clean.

Instead of the festive spread of food I had expected, they were sipping root vegetable soup with half-hooded eyes. The only beverage set on the table was a pitcher of water. There wasn't even ice or lemon to garnish it. I slowed my steps and took my usual spot next to Mother. "Good evening," I said, not feeling chatty, but doing my best to have manners.

Mother hardly glanced at me, but that wasn't completely unusual for her. I shifted my gaze to my sister. "What's going on? Where's Father?"

She covered her mouth while she finished chewing. In a hushed voice, she stated matter-of-factly, "Eastbury Pines has been taken under siege. They had to call a meeting."

Alarm seeped into my chest while I did the math. That was the closest major city to us. "That's only a hundred miles away," I whispered, suddenly feeling ill. "Do we have troops on the ground yet? Are we going to stop it?"

"There aren't any troops left to move." Ruenella took a sip of her drink, and then tacked on, "Father is calling in air support. It'll have to do for now."

"Shh," Mother said sternly as if noticing our conversation for the first time. She'd clearly been in her own headspace. "Let's not talk about war at the dinner table." She motioned to the soup crock in the center of the table. "Erralee, please help yourself. I've given the wait staff the night off to spend with family."

I wasn't the least bit hungry despite the fact I'd hadn't eaten since brunch with King Aswell. "I suppose you think this is my fault," I whispered. I didn't need to be blamed because the guilt had already encased my heart. This war could have been over if I hadn't been so stubborn.

"It is what it is," Mother's voice rolled out, lacking empathy.

I stared forward at my empty soup bowl, feeling as if it were a visual crossroads. I hadn't planned on the stakes getting higher, or the war this close to home. A bulge crept into my throat as I slid my chair back, the legs loudly rubbing, attracting Mother's stern gaze. Before she could ask, I said, "I'll talk to King Aswell tomorrow."