The Prince of Zammar

Up in Flames - Chapter Three

THREE

The next several days had passed in a blur. In between hours of pouring over her notes, pondering and detailing in writing the ritual she would use in her attempt to cure Jalen, Sadie spent all of her free time with the prince. The change in their relationship since his imprisonment to his quarters was remarkable. Gone was the barrier between prince and common-born. For the first time since meeting him, Sadie felt that she was starting to know the real Jalen: playful, relaxed, tender. And when the curse made him moody, he tried to hide it from her as much as he could.

As for their love-making... He was as demanding and authoritative as always, but she didn’t mind. It aroused her like nothing else did, and she cherished every moment.

But those moments were growing shorter by the day. More and more of Jalen’s time was spent locked in a guest room—masquerading as an informal training room—exhausting himself in mock battles every time the curse took over his consciousness. Hope, however, wasn’t far from the surface.

Upon learning that Sadie might be able to help their prince, the guards made every effort to support her. Jalen had lifted his non-fraternization order after his imprisonment, and now she was coming to know the guards a little better. Their loyalty to their prince and their genuine appreciation of his leadership said more than words of his capacity as a just and compassionate leader of men.

The pressure she felt each time she met their expectant gazes kept mounting as days flew by. Nonetheless, she understood them. The situation had appeared hopeless to them until she presented them with a solution. No one, least of all her, wanted to see Jalen die a raving, violent lunatic.

Sadie shook herself, unhappy with the dark turn her thoughts had taken, and looked out the window. She sighed. Jalen was due to arrive in her suite for their evening meal any minute now. She hoped he would be able to make it this time. For the first time yesterday, he had missed their meal due to yet another rage.

She glanced to the door, where Taj stood, immobile. She noticed the fatigue around his eyes, and the downturn to his lips. The youngest man on Jalen’s guard was suffering. He wasn’t the only one, and there wasn’t much Sadie could do to relieve any of them of their stress.

Jalen’s illness was taking its toll on everyone around him. The guards were on almost constant duty now, with only minimal breaks between rage episodes. Kadar was pressed harder than the rest, as he always placed himself between Jalen and whomever the curse targeted. But time was running short and she feared for Jalen, and for Kadar. She prayed they would manage to hold on for the next two days while she finished preparing for the ritual.

“Miss Sadie?” Taj’s voice interrupted her brooding.

“Yes, Taj?”

The young guard hovered in the doorway, looking painfully uncomfortable. Sadie looked at him curiously. “Was there something you wanted to ask?” she prompted him.

“You’re a woman, right?”

Sadie looked down at her own chest, then back at him, quirking an eyebrow. “I do believe so.”

She muffled a chuckle when Taj blushed. “Well, of course you’re a woman, I didn’t mean... I meant...” he stammered, then exhaled in frustration. “I need some advice, and I’m not sure who else I can ask.”

“What do you need to know?”

“When this is all over, and I’m free to be reassigned—” he paused “—I mean... This is harder than I thought it would be.”

“What are you worried about?”

“I changed my mind. It’s not important.”

Sadie touched his arm. “Taj, please continue. I’ll help if I can.”