CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

Reece woke to the breaking dawn of another day, the first to rouse. He looked around the dying embers of the bonfire and saw all of his Legion brothers still sleeping around it under the open sky. He had been thrilled when Thor returned the night before, and the two of them had stayed up half the night talking. At some point they had drifted off, and Reece had been plagued by troubled dreams. He kept seeing Selese’s face. In one dream, he saw her in a rowboat, adrift at sea, drifting away from him on strong tides; in another he saw her dangling over the edge of a cliff, holding his wrist. In all these dreams she was slipping away from him, and he kept trying to save her, but it was always too late.

Reece had awakened sweating, looking frantically for her. Of course, she was not here. He had not spoken to her since she’d rejected him the day before; he’d tried to forget about her, spending the rest of the day throwing himself into his work, helping the villagers rebuild, trying to push her from his mind.

Yet with every stone he’d laid, with every bit of labor, he thought only of her. For some reason, he just could not shake her from his mind. Despite himself, he had grown fond of this little village, of this simple place beneath the wide open sky, its simple people, its calming ways. It was such a refreshing change from King’s Court. And yet he knew that his time here was almost done, and that he would likely never see Selese again.

Reece paced in the early morning light, tormented over it. She had left things off in an ambiguous way, and he could not be entirely certain if she did not like him. He knew that if he did not try to speak with her now, one last time, then he would never come back here, never take that chance again. He knew that if he returned to King’s Court without taking that chance, without closure, it would haunt him.

Reece felt stuck between two worlds, desperately needing to talk to her again, yet afraid, unsure if she wanted to see him. Her words had been confusing. On the one hand, it had felt like a rejection; but on the other, she had not entirely closed the door, and had made that cryptic reference to admiring persistence. She was a mystery-and that was partly why he liked her. He had never encountered anyone like her, who kept him on his toes as she did. He’d finally met someone who didn’t care about riches or titles or status, who could care less about who he was, or where he was from. She was as pure and genuine a person as he’d ever met-and that just made him love her all the more.

He did not know why he was so obsessed with her. Was it because she had brought him back from the dead? Or was there something else? He felt an intense connection to her, one he could not shake, and he had never felt anything like it before. He could not ignore it, no matter how much he tried. He was burning up inside.

Reece could stand it no longer. He had made up his mind.

He finally turned and hurried off, turning down the streets of the small village, marching with determination to Selese’s cottage. He was overflowing with things to say to her; he needed to know why she had spurned him, and how she really felt about him. He was carrying on a whole conversation with her inside his head, and by the time he reached her door and grabbed her knocker, he was already worked up.

He slammed her knocker several times, the only sound in the sleepy village, reverberating throughout its empty streets. It sounded way too loud, and as a dog began barking in the distance, he felt conspicuous, as if he might wake this whole town up.

He slammed the knocker again and again, until finally he heard a voice.

“All right all right!” came a sleepy voice behind the door.

Reece stood back, suddenly realizing what he had done, suddenly realizing that he was slamming on her door at the crack of dawn-and he felt embarrassed. Now he wanted to turn and run-but it was too late.

Selese yanked open the door and stood there, staring back at him in the early morning sun, wrapping a shawl tight around her shoulders, looking sleepy and very annoyed.

“What has gotten into you?” she asked. “It is not yet sunrise, and yet you slam my door as if an army is advancing.”

Reece stared back, tongue-tied.

“So?” she prodded, annoyed.

Reece stood there, forgetting everything he’d wanted to say.

“I um…” he started, then stopped.

Why did she have this affect upon him?

“I came to say good morning,” he said.

Her eyes opened wide.

“Good morning?” she repeated, incredulous.

Then she burst out laughing, right in his face.

“Have you lost your mind?” she added.

Now it was Reece’s turn to get mad.

“Listen,” he began, no longer able to contain himself. “It’s not right what you’re doing here. Playing games like this. I need you to be honest with me. No more of this.”

She looked at him, baffled.

“No more of what?” she asked. “Are you dreaming?”

“No more of this game we’re playing. I need you to tell me the truth.”

“I’m not playing any games with you,” she said. “I don’t even know you.”

He examined her, frustrated.

“So are you telling me you’re not feeling what I’m feeling?” Reece asked, wanting to get to the point. He needed to know, for his own clarity of mind.

She blinked, taken aback.

“And what is it that you are feeling?” she asked.

“Enough of the questions!” Reece demanded, at the end of his rope. “I came here because I love you. Do you understand? I love you. I’m not sick. I’m not delirious. I’m awake. I’m in my right mind. And that’s how I feel. And that’s the end of it!” he yelled, angry, his voice rising,

She looked at him, surprised, as if looking at a crazy person; then, slowly, a smile formed at the corner of her mouth.

“But you don’t even know me,” she replied. “How can I believe it’s true? How is such a thing possible?”

Reece’s heart fell.

“So are you saying you don’t love me then?” he insisted.

“I don’t even know you,” she responded. “I’m not saying that I don’t love you. I’m not saying that I do. It is not a word I would use lightly. And not with a stranger.”

“Well, how are you supposed to know me, if you won’t give me a chance?” Reece pressed.

Now it was her turn to blush.

“You are royalty,” she said. “I am a village girl. It would not work out between us.”

“And how can you be so sure?” Reece demanded. “Because I think it could.”

She looked him, her eyes growing serious for the first time, as if finally truly hearing him.

“What are you asking?” she asked.

Reece took a deep breath.

“I’m asking you to come with me. I’m saying that I want to take you away from here. I’m saying that I want you to give us a chance. I mean what I say. I’m not a passerby. I take love very seriously. And I know how I feel about you. I’ve been up all night long-and I can think of nothing else.”

Selese’s cheeks reddened, and she shifted, flustered.

“Tell me,” Reece asked, calming. “Do you not think of me at all?”

Selese looked down to the ground, reddening herself.

“I’ve thought of nothing else since you left yesterday,” she said softly, looking down, as if afraid to admit it.

Reece’s heart swelled. He felt like shouting from the rooftops. He could hardly conceive that she felt the same.

“Then why do you resist me?” he pleaded.

She looked up, her eyes wet.

“You would tire of me in a day,” she said. “I would just be an oddity, the village girl brought to King’s Court. Everyone would gawk at me. You would move on to someone else. I won’t put myself through that.”

“Nobody will gawk at you,” Reece insisted. “Least of all me. I could care less what others think. I want you there. I want you with me.”

She looked into his eyes, and for the first time, he could really feel her feelings for him. He could not wait for an answer any longer: he leaned in, placed a hand behind her head, pulled her close, and he kissed her.

She did not resist. She did not kiss him back, but she did not pull away, either. The feel of her lips on his was exhilarating, and he kissed her as long as he could, not wanting to let go. As he did, he felt transported to another place. He felt that this was the woman he was meant to be with.

Suddenly, a horn sounded, cutting through the morning sky, and Reece turned as the whole village began to run, heading in one direction. He spotted a single man galloping towards the village center, in a hurry, coming from King’s Court. A messenger. He knew instantly that, whatever it was, it could not be good.

*

Thor stood in the early morning light of Sulpa, and turned with the rest of the village as he saw a lone messenger galloping towards him, riding across the wasteland from the road to King’s Court. Thor squinted into the light, wondering if it were an apparition, but the horns sounded all around him, and he knew it was real. At first he felt on guard for battle, but then he realized it was just a messenger, and his heart beat faster. Whatever it was, it could not be good. Not by the way this man was riding.

As the messenger neared, Thor ran out to meet him, and his heart dropped further as he realized who it was. Steffen, the hunch back, the one who had saved Gwen’s life. He was charging hard, and his face was bloodied and covered in sweat, and clearly he had been riding all night. Thor could feel the urgency coming off of him, even from here, and every fiber in his being told him that something was wrong.

Thor ran out to greet him, beyond all the other villagers, at the village gate, and Steffen dismounted, breathing hard, and hurried up to Thor.

He half bowed.

“My liege,” he began, gasping for air.

“Bring him water!” Thor ordered, and a village boy ran up with a bucket of water. Steffen took it, leaned back and drank, gulping it down quickly, then dumping the rest of it over his head.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand, took several deep breaths, and looked up at Thor.

“My liege, something terrible has happened,” he began. “It is Gwendolyn.”

Thor’s heart pounded.

“We were ambushed by Nevaruns,” he continued. “At first, just a handful, and we managed to kill them. But then, a greater army came. They overwhelmed us. It was just Gwen and I and Krohn, alone on the hilltop. No one came to our defense.”

Steffen broke into tears.

Thor stepped forward, flooded with panic, grabbed the small man by his shoulders and shook him.

“Tell me what happened!” he demanded. “Is she okay!?”

Steffen shook his head.

“She told me to come find you. I wanted to stay and fight to the end. But she insisted I come and get you. When I left, they were closing in on her. There was nothing else I could do. I don’t know if she’s even alive.”

Steffen wept, and Thor stood there, overwhelmed with guilt. He hated himself for leaving Gwen alone, for not returning sooner. He couldn’t stand the thought of her being taken away, unprotected, all by herself. He felt torn to pieces.

And then he felt a new feeling rising up in his veins: a desire for vengeance, and a desire to save her, if she was alive.

There was no time to waste.

“TO THE HORSES!” Thor screamed out to his Legion brothers, who were already gathered around him, listening to every word.

Within moments Thor was on his horse, as were his brothers, and he kicked it harder than he’d ever had in his life. He rode from this place, riding with everything he had into the wasteland, towards King’s court.

He only prayed that Gwendolyn was still alive.

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