19. Chapter 19

nineteen

K allessa jolted awake to a thunderous pounding on her door, the doorknob rattling violently. Disoriented and flustered, she sat upright, trying to get her bearings. After the events of last night that included a naughty cat and an alluring Nevander, it was a wonder she’d slept at all.

“Kallessa, open this door immediately,” Dovina’s voice, sharp with impatience, cut through the wood.

Scrambling out of bed, Kallessa fumbled with her robe, her fingers clumsy with sleep. Dovina was going to rouse the entire estate with her banging. She yanked the door open just as Dovina raised her fist to knock again.

Her cousin barreled past her, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the hinges. Kallessa winced. So much for not waking others.

“Where were you yesterday?” Dovina demanded, her eyes flashing. “I didn’t see you at the games.”

Kallessa’s mind raced, searching for a plausible excuse. “Nevander and I spent the day indoors,” she said, hoping the vagueness would suffice.

“Actually, I don’t care,” Dovina snapped, pacing the room like a caged animal. Her heels dug into the plush carpet with each turn. “You won’t believe what happened this morning. ”

Kallessa perched on the edge of her bed, rubbing her eyes and bracing herself for whatever drama was about to unfold.

“Before dawn, the prince summoned me to his sitting room,” Dovina said, her voice trembling with indignation. “He told me to bring my harp.”

Kallessa studied Dovina’s expression. What had the prince done now?

“He offered me tea when I arrived,” Dovina continued, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I was elated, thinking he wanted a private performance. So I played my best pieces, ones no one else has even heard yet. For an hour, I poured my heart into the music.”

She paused, her chest heaving. “And do you know what he did the entire time? He just morosely stared at a portrait over my head, silent as a shadow.”

Kallessa’s brow furrowed. “Maybe he was deeply moved by your playing?”

Dovina scoffed. “He looked awful, too, with dark circles under his eyes. When I finally stopped, he looked at me with those dead gray eyes and said, ‘That is all. You may leave.’ Can you believe it?”

Her cousin’s blue eyes were wide with outrage as she whirled on Kallessa. “I’ve never been so insulted! I’m not some common minstrel to be summoned at his whim. I’m a lady, a peer!” She flung her hands up. “He’s not even my prince. I don’t have to do his bidding.”

Exhausted from her outburst, she sank into a plush chair, flinging her hands out to the sides. “The next time he asks me to play, the answer is no. He is definitely off my potential husband list. ”

Kallessa bit her lip. So that’s what the prince had been up to. Discouraging Dovina’s infatuation. But she knew better than to voice that thought. It would only invite more drama.

Just as quickly as she’d deflated, Dovina sprang back to life. She rushed to Kallessa, grasping her hands. “But I did meet the most handsome man yesterday. His name is Warwick. We met in the maze. He and I have the same colored eyes. Can you imagine? And he told me the saddest story about his wife who passed away.” Dovina recounted, her voice tinged with sympathy. “He was so helpful and attentive, making sure I made it out of the maze. A perfect gentleman.” Now her cousin’s eyes were the size of the moon, her cheeks flushed pink.

Kallessa’s jaw dropped momentarily before she recovered. “Warwick Ratliff?”

“Yes. Have you met him?” Dovina asked.

Memories of being repeatedly elbowed in the face flashed through Kallessa’s mind. She forced a neutral expression. “We sat near each other at the first dinner party.”

“He’s a Krithadean dignitary. So, he’s titled, close to the crown, and he treated me like the lady that I am.” Dovina raised her delicate chin in defiance.

Kallessa felt a little sick to her stomach. What if Warwick really did kill his wife? If she said anything to Dovina, though, her cousin would be indignant, thinking Kallessa was trying to ruin her prospects.

“That’s... nice,” Kallessa managed. “Do you two have plans for the rest of the festival?”

“He was mistakenly paired with some old crone,” Dovina shared. “But since he’s close to the queen, he had her change it so we could be together. Isn’t that sweet? Maybe I’ll marry him. That will teach the prince.”

Kallessa took a deep breath, knowing she’d regret her next words. “You’re only seventeen.” Kallessa rested her hand briefly against her cousin’s arm. “Why are you in such a hurry to get married? You have plenty of time. Your father is rich. Decisions like this shouldn’t be made lightly.”

Dovina’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “What do you know about relationships? The only man you were ever involved with tossed you away like yesterday’s trash when he found out you were no longer an heir.”

Kallessa dropped her hand, the words hitting her like a slap across the face.

Dovina glared at her. “I don’t know why I thought you’d be happy for me. You’re just a bitter old harpy. It’s fine for you to be engaged, but not me? If it weren’t for me bringing you here, you’d still be at Aunt Gevene’s, dusting her stupid smelling salt collection!”

It was true.

Kallessa reached out, trying to salvage the situation. “Wait, cousin. I am thankful—”

Dovina dismissed her words with a wave. “Just forget it,” she retorted, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind her.

Great, now her cousin might be the one engaged to the murderer.

Was this all worth it? Her life had been so simple just days ago. Now she had to juggle so many things, her head was spinning. She was pretending to be engaged to Nevander, a man who drove her to distraction with his mysterious past and alluring presence. Her future and financial security hung in the balance, dependent on Prince Castien’s whims and the success of her split skirts idea. And to top it off, Dovina was acting even more irrational than usual, potentially falling for a man Kallessa suspected of murder. The weight of secrets, lies, and unspoken truths threatened to crush her beneath their combined force.

Enough. Kallessa yanked open her wardrobe. As she donned her split skirts with shaking hands, a sense of urgency filled her. She had to get away from this place—its games, its society, its lies.

Kallessa slipped out through the rear doors of the estate, sidestepping the festival goers who were stirring about. Her feet led her down the path to the stables, a sudden need to feel crisp air on her skin.

There, she found Sunu, a living link to a past she’d thought forever lost. Kallessa’s throat tightened as she gazed into the mare’s chocolate eyes, framed by long, dark lashes.

“Who owns you now?” she whispered.

Five years. In that time, her mother’s prized stock could have scattered to the winds, sold off to countless buyers. Yet here was Sunu, in another country, far away from home. Kallessa’s fingers trembled as she caressed the horse’s soft mane, and Sunu nuzzled her hand in response.

Blinking back tears, she fished out the carrots she’d pilfered from the breakfast display. Who used food to decorate food, anyway? She fed two to Sunu, savoring the familiar sound of crunching, and pocketed the rest for later.

“Excuse me,” she called to a passing stable boy. “Are there horses available for guests?”

The boy’s eyes lit up. “Of course, my lady! I’ll saddle one up right away.”

As he worked, Kallessa explained her need for a regular saddle. When she showed how her split skirts worked, the boy’s cheeks flamed red. He ducked his head, focusing intently on patting the golden pony with white patches.

“This is Enola,” he mumbled. “She’s a sweet one, not known to act up.”

Kallessa smiled, offering Enola the remaining carrots. As the pony munched happily, she turned back to the boy. “Thank you. Oh, and... do you have a fishing pole?”

His grin stretched from ear to ear, making his woolen flatcap rise. “You’re my kind of lady, if you don’t mind me saying so. Wait here a moment.”

He returned with a small bamboo pole and a brass-latched wooden box. After confirming she knew the way to the lake, he tipped his hat and hurried off to his next task.

Kallessa mounted Enola, her body remembering the familiar motions. She leaned close, whispering, “Well, girl, let’s escape for a while, shall we?”

As they rode out into the morning, the breeze ruffled Kallessa’s loose hair. No corset constricted her breathing, no ridiculous slippers pinched her toes. Today, she was just Kallessa, a simple girl chasing the promise of a quiet lake and the thrill of a caught fish .

For a few precious hours, she could forget about princes and pretenses. Out here, with only the open sky for company, Kallessa could finally breathe.

He must have a fever.

Nevander’s skin burned despite the chill dawn air gusting through every open window. His eyes, gritty from a sleepless night, felt like sandpaper against his eyelids. The memory of Kallessa’s touch lingered, an electric current coursing through his veins.

After escorting her to her room, he’d fled the suffocating walls of the estate. Shrouded in darkness, he’d prowled the vineyard, haunted the courtyards, and stalked the gardens. Yet no amount of physical exertion could quell the fire she’d ignited within him.

He’d sat in the tub of icy water. Now, as dawn arrived, he stood dripping and half-dressed, staring unseeing at the rising sun. His mind raced, replaying every moment, every touch, every breath shared between them.

A thunderous banging at Kallessa’s door jolted him from his reverie. His muscles tensed, ready to storm her room, until he recognized her cousin’s shrill voice. Dovina’s tirade filtered through the walls, each word stoking Nevander’s simmering anger. When the door slammed shut minutes later, he forced himself to unclench his fists.

If Dovina had been his charge, he would have had her thrashed for speaking to Kallessa in such a manner .

No. He couldn’t afford to think that way. He couldn’t develop any further feelings for Kallessa.

Ten minutes later, Kallessa’s door quietly opened, then closed.

Nevander ran a hand through his damp hair. He bloody well wasn’t going to stay in his room all day. He could at least go find her and see how she was doing. If only to keep up appearances.

With renewed purpose, he dressed quickly and set out to find her. The staff and stable hands, after some coaxing, revealed she’d gone riding to the lake. Suddenly, that sounded like the most perfect place to be. The day was calm, the sun beginning to chase the chill away.

Sneaking into the kitchens, he convinced the cook to pack him a basket for a lakeside picnic. He ignored the odd looks, suspecting that at least one or two of them knew who he was. But thankfully, the staff didn’t gossip with society, so he was safe. For now.

Could he possibly last the rest of the festival without being outed as the prince of Dracia? More importantly, could he bear to let Kallessa go when this masquerade inevitably ended? With each step towards the lake, the answers to these questions seemed both more urgent and more impossible to face.

Enola plunged her muzzle into the lake and Kallessa dismounted with a soft thud, her boots sinking slightly into the damp earth. She wrapped Enola’s reins around a nearby tree, patting the pony’s flank affectionately .

The lake stretched before her, a vast kidney-shaped expanse surrounded by cypress and willows. Wisps of mist rose from sunlit patches, creating an ethereal dance on the water’s surface. Kallessa inhaled deeply, the scent of cool water and mossy ground filling her lungs. For a moment, she could almost believe she was back home, standing by the lake behind her parents’ estate.

A cool breeze caressed her cheek, carrying with it the melodious chirping of unseen birds and Enola’s occasional soft whinny. Kallessa’s shoulders relaxed, the tension she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying melting away.

She strolled along the lake’s edge until she found the perfect log to sit on. Worn smooth by years of use, evidently, others enjoyed the spot too. It offered a perfect vignette of the lake, with soft willows on either side, whispering gently in the breeze.

Kallessa lowered herself onto the log, placing her fishing pole and tackle box beside her. As she began tying the line, memories flooded back—her father’s strong hands guiding hers, showing her how to tie the perfect knot. His words echoed in her mind: You’ll never go hungry if you know how to fish.

A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips as she remembered Blain, her little brother, splashing in the shallows, too impatient for fishing. Just when he’d started to develop the patience for it...

Kallessa swallowed hard, pushing the painful memories aside. She focused instead on looping the line and pulling it tight, and adjusting the floater. Perhaps if Princess Ciana didn’t like her split skirt idea, she would just go back to the beach and hire herself as a fisherwoman. She scoffed. Not likely .

But the day was too beautiful for thoughts like that. Opening the wooden box, she saw a small bucket filled with moist soil and wriggling worms.

Without hesitation, she selected one, effortlessly sliding it onto the hook. Adjusting the lead weight on the line, she gently lowered it into the water, allowing her worries to sink to the lake’s depths alongside the worm.