Chapter 12—Intermission

“Kyanna!”

His sword clattered to the floor. He dropped to his knees before her.

“It’s okay to look now, it’s over. You’re safe.” But when his fingers touched upon her wrists to pull them away, she flinched back. This gave him pause.

“Princess, it’s okay.”

Knowing that she had to know, that she had to find out sooner than later, she dropped her trembling hands from her ears and opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the glittering of Einar’s crystal marriage pendant dangling from his neck, but her eyes went to the black figure behind him.

“Take off his mask.”

“What—?”

“Him!” she pointed a quaking, pale finger. “Take it off right now!”

He stared at the shrill tone of her voice but obeyed. His various scars shivered with each movement of his arms as he unwrapped the man’s head, whose black clothing was damp to one side. When the face finally began to be revealed, relief as she had never known poured over her and she couldn’t look away. The man’s skin was the same color of chocolate; far too dark to be Jeremy’s. His nose was also too large and hooked and his eyebrows too thick. Not to mention the man’s hair was long. This was not Jeremy.

Einar looked back to her with the man’s mask still in his grip, his expression lined with concern. Any hint of the feral fury she had seen before had vanished and the Einar she knew had returned. However, as he approached once more and his eyes found the marks of the man’s hands around her neck, she found herself tensing as some of the fury flickered back. Carefully, he reached out a finger to lift her chin to view them but stopped at her whimper.

“Kyanna, I won’t hurt you. There’s no need to look so…” but he trailed off weakly, withdrawing his touch. She felt her face and recognized it had scrunched up in terror. She couldn’t shake off that expression—the expression he had had as he pulled the man off her and drew his sword.

A frantic knocking came at the door.

“Kyanna? Kyanna, are you okay?”

Before waiting too long, Hope burst in. The moment her eyes found the bodies strewn all over the room, her hands went to her ruddy face, and she gave a scream. Einar winced.

“Wha—wha—good gracious!” At last she spotted Kyanna curled up in the corner. Completely ignoring the half-naked crowned prince and the bloody sword beside him, she bowled through to throw her arms about her. “Princess! Oh, darling, what happened? Are you all right?”

She forced herself to speak to save herself from being smothered by Hope’s rather copious breasts. “I’m fine, let go!”

Hope released her, apologizing furiously before launching into a rant about the guards.

“Where is that worthless band of rags? Why didn’t they prevent this? I told the king keeping them away from the bedroom would be a mistake, and look what happened? For the love of Fivar, if I don’t see them within the next five minutes I am going—“

“Please, Hope,” broke in Einar as he picked around for his clothes. “We need to act quickly. Will you lower your voice and please close the window and curtains for me? Swiftly, now.”

Hope hesitated for a moment, her lips pursed in a question, but she did as she was told and moved toward the window.

Einar straightened and pulled on his undershirt.

“There’s more of them,” he said. “And they might be waiting to receive their comrades. It also isn’t unlikely that they have killed the guards by now and have surrounded the place.”

Hope’s face paled till even the rogue blotches of her cheeks disappeared. Einar shuffled around for his boots as she blubbered for a response.

He continued on forcefully. “Hope, listen carefully. Kyanna and I can’t be seen. I need you to go downstairs and call the guards in, if there are any. There is a way to do that?”

“Yes, there’s a bell, by the kitchen back doors.”

“Good. Ring them in. If any come, we can receive a full report from them. If none come, then…we’ll go from there. They shouldn’t be too far from the house, right?”

Hope nodded mutely.

“Then go. And don’t say anything about us still being alive.”

The moment she was gone, Einar abandoned his belt on the floor and came to Kyanna, his hands cautiously reaching for her.

“Kyanna, we need to get ready. Can you stand?”

She nodded and moved to get up, just to hiss in pain as her sprained ankle smarted with her weight. She pressed on for her housecoat. The cold floorboards beneath her feet felt surreal as she walked around the fallen bodies. A pool of scarlet about one made her stomach flop and jolt to her throat. Was blood really that bright of a red? It almost didn’t look real.

Einar buckled on his sword as Kyanna threw a dress into her trunk, swallowing down the bile.

“They’re…” But the words wouldn’t come. What was she trying to say? What could she say? Just a moment before they had been moving and very much alive. Was life that fragile that it could disappear within seconds? Nine months of growth in the womb and decades of growing—all that growing and strife made gone and meaningless within a blink of an eye?

“Einar…are they…dead?”

She heard the tap of his boots on the floor pause. In the distance, a deep chime echoed across the house and grounds, reminding Kyanna of the temple bell that had rung on her wedding day. They both held the same somber sound.

“Most likely.”

Her mouth went dry. She sat on top of her trunks to put on her slippers, but her hands wouldn’t stop shaking long enough to slip on her last shoe. In the end she dropped it and instead of picking it up just stared at it, her quiet mind far away. Einar’s warm fingers wrapped about her foot and her slipper. The rough calluses on his fingers caught on her stockings when they brushed by.

“You’re okay, Kyanna. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

He pulled her to her feet and helped her gingerly make her way to the door. As Einar closed the door behind them, a bundle of white and orange red came hurtling around the corner, nearly crashing headlong into them. Dianne, in a white nightgown and with her orange hair free to bounce about in a great, curly mass had appeared, panting.

“I heard—“she gasped, “thumping—assassins—ninjas, are you all right, Sir? Princess?”

Even through her daze Kyanna couldn’t help but scowl at the girl’s inappropriate familiarity. Yes, the little maid didn’t know what wrath she had kindled against her. Einar, however, was unaffected.

“Yes, I’m fine, and it’s your Highness.”

A blush blossomed over her features, contrasting them horribly to her hair.

“Of course, I’m…I’m sorry.”

“How many servants remain in the manor?”

“Uh, well, there’s maybe two maids, the stable master, and the coach. Oh, and Hope and myself.”

Kyanna couldn’t help but marvel at the efficiency of her father. Only that many? Then again, there was only the two of them to look after, but her father wasn’t someone to under-burden his daughter with assistance.

A loud puffing up the stairs announce the arrival of Hope.

“Nothing!” she burst out. “None came, your Highness!”

Einar’s expression darkened and his grip around Kyanna’s waist tightened ever so slightly.

“All right,” he said. “In that case, I need you to get a hold of the men servants. Tell them to prepare a carriage immediately. And while you do it, don’t bother being quiet, but make it sound as though you’ve already found us dead, okay? Maybe if we get them to believe they’re successful we’ll have a chance of getting out of here.”

“Getting—getting out?” Hope spluttered. “B-b-but sire! We’re not going out there, are we? What if the guards just—“

Einar cut her off with a hand, frowning. “With the guard gone I can only keep everyone safe for so long. We have to leave eventually, and sooner is better than later.”

“But can you be sure that there’s anymore out there? What if it was just the three that killed the guards?”

He shook his head. “No. Desert folk don’t like the number three. Unlucky. There’s at least one more.”

Hope deflated with her last defense. Dianne was clenching her hands so hard her white knuckles and fingers almost blended in with her nightgown. Kyanna found herself secretly hoping she’d sprain or break one of those slender fingers, especially the bandaged one held with obvious care.

Einar turned to Dianne, who jumped at the sound of her name. “I need you to get some big sheets and spread them out on the floor of the main hall. Get the maids to help you and then have them do what they can to help the men.”

“Sheets?” she blinked at him. “But why sheets?”

“Just do it!” he snapped, and she squeaked at Einar’s sudden aggravation. She hurried off to do as he had asked, Hope following thereafter. “It’s imperative that you and I remain hidden now. Are you doing all right, Kyanna?”

Despite the fact that she felt far from it, she found herself responding in her usual way. “I’m not a flower, you ass. I’ll be fine.”

Einar smiled.

The servants moved quicker than Kyanna expected. She worried about the men who moved outside to prepare the carriage and didn’t know why Einar never mentioned the possibility of them getting attacked as well, but they returned untouched, though as distressed as the rest. When the sheets were spread about the hall floor Einar had Kyanna lay down in the center of one. As he proceeded to wrap her up, he explained the plans.

“We want it to look like you’re carrying out our bodies to the first carriage. As I said before, if it looks like the assassins’ missions were complete, they may leave you alone. We only know so far that we are the target.” He tugged on his newly made wrappings. “Can you breathe all right, Princess? Anything I need to change?”

“I’m fine.” She grumbled. Her breath came back at her hot and moist. She felt like she was three or four again and trying to hide in the laundry.

Einar gave instructions to Hope to play the part of the distressed overseer as he allowed himself to be wrapped up as well. Her heart pounded away in her chest as she felt herself be picked up and carried first to the door. She couldn’t feel the night air, but she could sense it, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Einar assured them that there had to be more out there, but if they were what the hell were they doing leaving the mansion? Going out in the open? But she didn’t dare make a noise. She wondered if she would faint before reaching the carriage.

There was a click. A horse nickered. She heard Hope somewhere behind her weeping loudly. A dreamlike sensation came over her. The same stars hung over her as when Einar told her about the Snow Maiden. She remembered the minute popping of his fingertips pulling away from her stockings. She remembered the taste of apples.

Then Einar’s bared teeth and wild eyes burned it away.

She was hardly aware of the cushion beneath her and the grunts of the other men as they loaded in Einar besides her. The crack of the whip and the loud, overdone wails of Hope came to her muffled. The carriage jerked into motion. It was dark. Blessedly and wonderfully dark. Maybe, perhaps, dark enough to fall asleep. Dark enough to forget how cold Einar’s feral ferocity had made her, or how he’d sliced through the man at her throat like paper.

It was the cool air of the carriage rushing in that snapped her back to full awareness. Einar had pulled open her cocoon and was now proceeding to coax her off the seat in order to unwrap it off her fully. She could hear the tapping of his sheath against the coach floor as he moved. His fingers found her face in the near dark.

“Kyanna, you…”

She waited for him to find the words. She had nothing to say.

“I’m sorry for scaring you. No one should ever have to see something like that.”

Something nasty and bitter rose from her stomach like bile and came out as words.

“You didn’t have to kill them.”

“Kyanna,” his voice turned pained. “If I hadn’t, you’d probably be dead right now.”

“Fine,” she said, “but you didn’t have to do it like that.”

“Like what?” His concern snapped to indignation. “Was I to stop and excuse myself before stabbing the man who was about to push a dagger into your chest? Or was I supposed to wait politely until he was finished to do it?”

“You just did it!” And before she even said it she knew it made no sense. Yet the chill remained.

The carriage fell silent. Einar’s anger, almost tangible in the still air, slowly fizzled until all she could sense from him was the tension in his hands pressed into the seat beside her. With a quiet noise of frustration he pushed himself back. She sunk back to drifting through her frozen thoughts, of stars, of apples, of white horses showing off in the fields.

Unbidden, logic returned to her. Einar had only done his job as a man and her husband. In fact, any castle guard, let alone a loyal citizen of Karpathia, would have initiated or at least demanded the death of any who dared to threaten her life. Then why did that hard, wild face of his and how it clashed with the gentleness he had shown her bother her? She had known all along he was a warrior. Or did it have nothing to do with Einar and merely had to do with the fact she was too innocent and naïve to handle this brush with death?

Whatever the cause, she should apologize, and yet somehow her mouth had forgotten how to form words.

It wasn’t long, though, before Einar broke the silence.

“I’m sorry, Kyanna, I can’t be sorry that I have these skills. They’re the only reason I could be with you, let alone protect you tonight. But…” His fingers brushed her shoulder, pushing aside wayward hair. “I…I’m sorry for…for all the grief my selfish desires have caused you. And for snapping.”

He moved closer, brushing more of her mussed hair from her face. The warmth of his body pressed against her side helped thaw the cold fear gripping her. Her throat tightened and her eyes smarted with overdue tears.

When she felt his lips against the top of her head she finally pulled away, and Einar allowed her to.

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” she said. “I was the one who made a poor decision allowing myself to…to dally with romance that couldn’t lead up to marriage, or to dally at all, really. A princess is hardly entitled to courtship. There are too many politics tied up to that hand. And I knew that.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “I was the one who rebelled. These are my consequences.”

His fingers came back, stroking her hair. She could just see an outline of his figure in the faint light of the lone lantern held up front by the coach.

“I love you, Kyanna.”

And, somehow, that heartbreaking tenderness she had seen in his softened smiles was conveyed through the run of those fingers, so careful against the knots and her scalp.

The tears building behind her eyelids escaped down her cheeks.

“I wish I could make you free. Free like the Soan, or like the Genie, or the girl with wings, or even like the Snow Maiden. But, even as a King, I wouldn’t be able to change the expectations of others and, most importantly, the expectations you have for yourself. I wouldn’t be able to change the natural laws which govern the human heart and decide consequences like heartbreak and what break minds.” His warmth drew near again as his thumb brushed aside her tears and his forehead touched her temple. “But I can love you with all my being and do everything in my power to make you happy. I can pull you into warm waters to swim. I can find you the crispest apples. I can find you the best trees to climb and make sure you have a saddle next time you ride a horse.”

Kyanna let out a watery chuckle. The tip of his nose brushed against the side of her eye, tracing her eyebrow.

“I…I can’t, in good conscience, support you in an affair with another man, knowing of the consequences that would inevitably bring your unhappiness…but I can do everything to make you forget that he ever existed.”

She turned her face to tell him that was just an excuse, that what he couldn’t handle was the jealousy, but the words were taken away by his warm lips against hers, gentle as he had only ever been.

As his rough fingertips continued to brush away her tears, she found herself kissing back, caught up in a surprisingly new sensation. She had never realized how overly wet and hard Jeremy’s kisses had been, or how easily just the right pair of lips could make the hair on her arms and neck stand up and her fingertips tingle.

Perhaps…perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad.

Unlike Jeremy, Einar didn’t quickly escalate to breathy, open mouth kisses, and she suspected he hadn’t the experience to even know what to do with such things. He even pulled back in order to initiate another kiss and eventually to move across her cheek and to the skin beneath her earlobe. Innocent, chaste little touches.

“Have you ever been with a woman?” she found herself asking.

“I find it insulting you should even ask,” he said against her neck.

“You were a soldier.”

“I’m a hopeless romantic.” A lingering kiss against her heartbeat.

“Romance can come from whoredom.”

He pulled back, but instead of another kiss he nipped her at the junction between her neck and shoulder.

“Ow!”

“I warned you that you were insulting me.” Even so, he kissed the same spot, as though to make it better.

“I thought men took pride in how many women they could bed.”

He snorted against the fabric of her nightgown. “I thought women took pride in being the kindest, most docile and proper things in the room and only wanted men for their money.”

Before she could properly respond to that, he had come back up to her mouth, and this time his kiss expressed a hesitant curiosity.

She smiled against it and proceeded to satisfy said curiosity, letting her lips teach him all the ways she knew a kiss could dance.