The Reign of Trees (23 page)

Donovan leaned into her. She could feel the weight of his chest on hers. His hand reached for her face.

The night was completely still. It was as if there was not another living, breathing thing within a hundred miles. It was just her and her beloved Donovan.

She could feel his breath upon her lips. She longed to feel his lips upon hers, so badly that it began to hurt. It was as if she was turning inside out, leaving the insides of her body exposed to the open air.

His eyes were sorrowful—not blissful as she had hoped they would be. He did not move his head the final inch needed so his lips could meet hers.

“Illianah,” he whispered. “You have bewitched me many times in my life, but never before have I felt so completely under your spell that I have no control over my own heart. I am amazed then, that I am able to say this: but I cannot.”

Now it felt worse than having her insides just exposed to air: it felt as if her raw and inverted body was being scraped by thorns and barren branches. Her entire body prickled with the pain of rejection, and she wanted to fall even further into that tree—away from Donovan and this humiliation.

She knew her cheeks were red with embarrassment, but she tried to feign composure. “I am sorry. I should not have asked. I know you will not abandon your kingdom.” Her voice sounded bitter, making her apology sound insincere.

He stiffened, as if her words had just cut him. “More than that,” he said, his voice sounding weak, “Prince Harrington is not a fool, Illianah. If I disappear just one week after you went missing, he would know that we are together. He would not rest until we were found and brought to justice for bringing such shame to our countries. We would have no chance—no chance at all—of escaping. Any country where we would try to find refuge would suddenly find themselves at war with Burchess and Liksland. We could not do that to innocent people. And there is nowhere we could travel to that would put us out of the reaches of your father—not when he has the most powerful navy in the entire world.”

“But we would have time,” she said. Tears began to fall from her eyes as if they were jumping from her tarnished mind as quickly as possible. “We would be together for weeks, possibly months, before they caught us. Would that not be worth it? I would give anything for even one day, Donovan.”

Again, he wiped the tears from her cheek with his thumb. “It is not enough for me. And I will not sentence you to your death.”

Even though he had tried to take away her tears, hundreds of new tears were ready to take their place. “One day!” she cried. “You will not even give me that! You give me nothing.”

Her voice was a reflection of the anger she felt for this injustice, but instantly, she regretted her words. She could see the pain she had inflicted upon him. “I know,” he whispered. “But it cannot be. No matter how we wish for it, we cannot make the stars realign.”

He brushed another tear from her cheek and whispered in her ear. “Please forgive me, but I must go.”

Her heart began to dissolve within her body, much like soap within a bath. She knew it would never solidify again. He would not give her a day; nor would he give her another minute.

“A prince visiting from another kingdom cannot be out roaming the streets without being seen and his intentions questioned. I am sorry. Be safe, Illianah.”

He looked torn—as if part of him wanted to stay at her side. Yet, the other part of him looked as if he could not wait to turn and run.

 
Donovan stepped away from her and began to turn to leave, but then he turned back. “Do you have sufficient money for your needs?”

She actually heard the moan that came from her chest. She was nothing more than a beggar. He reached out and gave her a few gold farlings. “I am sorry, I do not have much with me.” He looked as if he had another thought. From the pocket of his tunic, he pulled out something else and handed it to her. The ruby. “Perhaps you can sell this. It should fetch a few hundred farlings.”

“I could never sell that. It belongs to the crown of Deltegra.”

“It is yours,” he said. “As is my heart.”

He stepped away from her and into the blackness of the night. She wanted to chase after him—to grab onto his cloak and to beg him not to leave. But she knew it was hopeless, just as he knew the war was.

Chapter Seventeen

Illianah wished she could explain that her tardiness was because she had overslept, but actually, she had not slept at all.

Valencio waited outside near his carriage and she could tell he was upset with her delay. He did not greet her, nor pay her a compliment on her appearance, but instead said, “We will now arrive in Bouron over a half-hour late: unless we make it up on the road. You better not complain if we go too fast.”

She hesitated before taking his offered hand as she stepped into the carriage. This was her last chance to refuse Valencio. If she accepted his hand now, she would be tied to this vile man for the rest of her life. Although she planned to betray him and run from him while he was at sea, she knew he would haunt her no matter where she went. But the money Donovan had given her was not enough. And selling the ruby was not an option. It would be like selling a piece of her soul. There was nothing else to remind her of him—nothing else that had once been in his hand. She could not make it through her life without a remnant of her only love.

“Thank you,” she said, accepting Valencio’s help into the carriage, and once he sat beside her, she said, “And thank you for the gown as well. It is lovely.”

He eyed her up and down—and not in a flattering manner. It was more the way a hungry coyote would look at a helpless rabbit. She regretted mentioning the dress.

“Yes, you make it so,” he said.

At least he did not seem to notice that the gown was crumpled, as she had been wearing it all night. Nor did he seem to notice that her eyes were red and puffy, as she had been crying all night as well.

Their carriage left the city too quickly. Illianah had hoped that they would meander through the streets for some time—possibly even drive past the palace. Even more than just hoping to linger in the capital, she hoped for some sort of divine intervention. She hoped Donovan would come out into the streets, riding his big, black horse, and order Valencio’s carriage to halt. She hoped Donovan would rescue her from this dismal life she was about to begin, but how could he? He did not even know she was leaving the city. And at this very moment, he was likely talking with the king, making one final plea for the protection of the people of Deltegra. He would not choose to seek her out instead. How could he? He was a prince. The ruler of his people. He could not betray their trust and walk away from them.

Yet look what she had done: she had turned her back on her crown and she had asked him to do the same. She was despicable.

Illianah had not realized that she was crying—yet again—when Valencio said, “Do not be sad, My Lady; I will give you a good life.”

She did not dare confide in Valencio and tell him she worried she was making a grave mistake. After all, she had given him her word; and she had accepted the dress. Nor could she tell him she was grieving over her lost love. “With every step your horses take, I am moving farther and farther away from my life. That is something any woman would cry over, Monsieur Valencio. I am leaving
everything
behind.”

“I do not pretend to understand your past, Katherine. But I do know that your future is promising.
Our
future is promising. Perhaps when you are married to a knight of King Reginald’s court, you will be accepted back into your family with open arms. Money is able to thaw even the hardest of hearts.”

Illianah fixed her gaze out the window and on the passing countryside. “Do not count on your money buying into my past, Valencio.” Saying as much might give him too much insight as to her identity, but she did not want him thinking that he could ever become a part of her life.

The remainder of the carriage ride passed in relative silence. She did not even speak when they stopped at an inn for lunch. She sat as far away from his as possible in hopes of not conveying a message that they were a couple to the patrons of the inn.

It was just a touch before nightfall when they arrived in the small coastal village of Bouron. “I had hoped to take you to see my ship, but it is growing dark too quickly. Had we left a little sooner ….”

“I can assure you I have no interest in ships.” Truly, her father’s quest for selling vessels was the cause of the disintegration of her life. She did not care if she ever saw a ship again.
 

“Then we shall get you to my estate quickly so you can see the grandeur of it before it is consumed by the blackness of night.”

Valencio explained how he had recently purchased the estate and while it was grand, it had fallen into disrepair. It had been the summer home for Duke Liosh and his family, yet the Duke could no longer afford to keep it, as he had built a new estate farther inland. “I will need your help as we rebuild the old estate. It is in need of a woman’s touch.”

The thought of purchasing furnishings for an old seaside estate should have brought Illianah joy, but it did not. She could not imagine ever finding joy while in
Valenico’s
home.

***

The estate was exactly as Valencio had said: majestic, yet in a bad state of disrepair. Of the hundred rooms, only a dozen were habitable. “You have a staff of how many?” she had asked upon her arrival.

“Five. My footman. The butler. The cook. The stable hand. And yourself—for now.”

She had ignored the reference to their supposed marriage and had said, “You will need more. That is not a proper staff.”

“That is under your charge,” he had replied. “You will go to town tomorrow and hire your staff.”

When she headed out into the village that morning, with Valencio first taking her to see his ship, it became clear to Illianah that everything Valencio did was deliberate. He was like a puppet master controlling her strings. She was not free. Not in the least. She was given the charge to hire, yet she could only hire those whom he deemed acceptable. She was also told which shops she could purchase from and the exact limit she was allowed to spend at each store. Her day was scheduled tightly—from the time she was to eat breakfast to the very last minute before the candle could be blown out at night. After a week working for Valencio, she would collapse into bed and fall asleep before her head even hit the pillow. Not only was she exhausted from her physical labors, she was mentally fatigued as well, as she had to try to keep her wits ahead of Valencio’s constant patronizing.

Valencio had not yet left for sea, as she hoped he would. “I thought you were to sail out immediately,” she said one morning at breakfast.

“Do not be so quick to get rid of me. I want to make sure you are settled before I leave you here all alone for the winter.”

“I think you have seen that I am perfectly capable …”

“Yes, perfectly capable. Yet, not perfectly loyal.”

“I do not know what you mean,” she said, keeping her chin high so he knew she did not fear him.

“The war, My Lady. You ask about it incessantly. One might think you are waiting to see the outcome before you commit your life to me.”

Illianah took a bite of her bread to give herself time to think of her response, but he spoke again before she was able. “I have noticed your interest in the war, as have others. It makes people ill at ease, Katherine, as they know you are not a native of Vieve. They do not trust you.”

“You are being dramatic. I am just as impartial as any other citizen of …”

“You are a Burchessian!” he yelled, hitting the table with his fist. “Do not assume me to be an imbecile just because I am not yet titled.”

Her hand froze over her food. She could not move it to her lap, nor could she tell it to stop shaking.

Valencio crackled with laughter. “Did you really think you could hide your citizenship from me? Burchessians are more arrogant than any other people. The very way you look down your nose at people indicates you were born of noble birth in the country which now wages war upon our helpless neighbors, and yet you do not have the discretion to hide your allegiance to Burchess, even in the presence of strangers.”

Her mouth opened to proclaim that he was wrong: she felt no allegiance to Burchess, but thankfully her mind told her to not speak of this. The only thing worse than having a Burchessian in his household would be having a traitor to the throne of Burchess hiding within his walls.

“You are forbidden from inquiring of the war, Katherine. Even while I am gone. Do not mention it. Do not ask of it. Do you understand?”

“I am allowed to inquire after the welfare of my people,” she said, her voice firm and unyielding.

“But that is not what it is. It is something more.” Valencio scrutinized her carefully, likely thinking if he looked at her emotions close enough, she would betray her secrets.

“Excuse me: I am quite done,” she said, standing and shoving her chair back in one swift movement.

Valencio stood quickly as well. “You are not done until I say you are done. Now sit.”

The look upon his face reminded her of the snarl of a ferocious wolf; her body began to tremble with fear. But she did not back down. “A true gentleman would never demand that his guest not leave the table.”

“Ah,”
Valenico
said with a wicked laugh. “But I am not yet a true gentleman, am I? Nor are you my guest. Sit.”