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I’m not trying to annoy them, but some part of me is tired of feeling like I can’t have fun. Playing with those kids reminded me that I have a lifetime of laughter and fun to catch up on. I shouldn’t have to control that happiness for anyone.
Prince Arlys continues. “This alliance is…you’re here to…” His eyes follow me along the railing.
I walk back to the middle of the railing, with the river right below me. Staring down, I’m delighted to see little fish swimming in the water. A dragonfly skims the surface, then darts off into the woods. This place is lovely.
“What I mean is, our marriage has a p-purpose. You’re here because we n-eed–”
I’m twirling again, listening to Prince Arlys stutter and stumble through whatever he’s trying to tell me when Prince Drogo frowns and reaches out to grab me, muttering, “Enough, Princess Tara. This is serious.”
His big hands grasp my waist, and he pulls me down from the railing, my body sliding down his as he lowers me to the bridge. His unexpected touch sends a jolt through me, and for a moment, we’re both caught off guard. We stare at one another, not speaking. His frown disappears, replaced with a look of confusion. He quickly steps back from me, clears his throat, and his familiar scowl reappears.
Prince Arlys and Rinan look at each other with raised eyebrows, smirks curling their lips. I’m not sure what that’s about, but I shrug it off. I don’t understand any of them. They seem to want to hate me with their words, but their actions don’t always show that.
Are all men this confusing or just my husbands? I wish I had Baldemar to ask.
Prince Arlys starts speaking again, “Some things have changed.”
Right. The marriage. The reason behind it. What’s he getting at? The Illness again?
“What do you mean? Something has changed since our last talk a few days ago? Or is the same thing we already talked about?” I question him.
They exchange a look, and my guard goes up a tiny bit. This is something they don’t want to talk about. I can’t figure out after all the awful things we’ve experienced what could be worse. I guess I’m about to find out.
Prince Arlys is focused on me, those brilliant green eyes of his locked onto mine. “It’s about the Illness. We need to prioritize it. We’ve wasted too much time already. We need your help figuring out what’s making shifters sick. Right now.”
He’s looking at me, like I’m going to fix it while he’s staring at me.
My eyes dart to the left where Princes Rinan and Drogo are, and they’re staring at me too, the tension in the air thick and palpable. Okay… so I guess they’re all on the same page with this. It’s okay. I get it. I want to help them too.
The thing is, I don’t know what’s causing this illness. I’ve only been here a few days, so how would I know? They haven’t even told me much about this sickness. I need more information if I’m going to help. And if they think it’s a magical illness, then I should probably start with that. I would assume if it was something simple, their healers would have already figured it out. All of this swirls in my mind as they gaze at me expectantly.
Without knowing where to start, I agree, nodding at them. “Let’s do it.”
Their shoulders visibly lower, and relief seems to wash over them.
“Where are you going to start?” Prince Drogo asks me, his eyes piercing me, but there’s no anger in his voice, just acceptance.
The truth is that I have no idea. I just need to think. To clear my mind. Looking around, I see a rowboat, and an idea forms. I point at it and tell them, “There.”
They exchange a look, but I don’t care. I’ve never done things traditionally, and I’m not about to start now. Especially now that I’m free of my mom’s constant disapproval. Free of my fellow witches’ anger.
Or, maybe, just free.
FOUR
Tara
Curled up at the bottom of the boat, my grimoire is my current world, a haven from the tension around me. I’m thankful Prince Rinan was able to get it for me from my room, running to get in when I’d suggested it might have the answers we’re looking for. It’s a book I haven’t read in several years, and one I think will be incredibly helpful in figuring out the wolves’ illness. The book contains stories of past witches' experiences with illness and injury, weaving within it spells and actions that helped to save lives.
If there’s an answer to the wolves’ illness, it has to be within these pages. Whether I can perform the spells described is a whole other thing.
But we’ll worry about that another time.
Prince Rinan’s steady rowing is a comforting rhythm in the background, and my feet rest in his lap. I’d gotten the feeling he wanted to protest my comfortable position, but he’d held his tongue, and I’d snuggled in, ready to read. Prince Drogo and Arlys, in their wolf forms, keep pace along the shore. Prince Arlys is a wolf with black fur, the same shade as his hair, and eyes the same forest green as his own. Prince Drogo is a brown wolf with dark eyes, mirroring his human form. It’s interesting. I never thought much about how wolves were connected to their human forms.
Oddly enough, their presence adds to the serenity rather than distracts from it. I swear I can sometimes hear their gentle footfalls, although it’s probably in my head. I like sensing them close to me. It’s like watching a deer play in the distance. It’s almost… magical.
It’s also nothing like the judgmental air of my tutors’ rooms. In them, I was always cold, even in my sweater. And the omnipresence of my tutors as they circled me, trying to get me to perform spells, was daunting. I never imagined being able to use magic without constantly being overseen, like I can do here. It’s nice. Studying magic with the lull of the river, surrounded by nature and these protective, grumpy shifters? I find a strange sense of peace in it all.
