Cricket song filled the air as I made my way back to Genevieve's house. Clouds glowed silver in the moonlight, blotting out wide swaths of stars. The sentries posted outside barred my way until they recognized me, muttering things about curfews and ill-advised nighttime strolls. Inside, servants cleared the dishes from the dining room, while the floorboards overhead creaked as someone paced.
I made my way up the stairs, headed down the narrow hall towards Beatriz' room until the sound of Genevieve's tinkling laughter gave me pause. The door to her room was open, spilling flickering firelight across the darkened hallway. Her voice prattled on quietly, punctuated with giggles and exclamations.
At the other end of the hallway, where the floorboards creaked, Frederico's muffled voice rose and fell in conversation with more male voices. Certain I wasn't about to walk in on Genevieve and her husband, I made my way towards her door.
Neither she nor Beatriz noticed me as I leaned against the doorframe, taking in the scene of the pair of them. They lay on the bed facing each other and talking in low tones, huddled together like sisters sharing secrets. Genevieve giggled at something Beatriz said.
Not wanting to be branded more of an eavesdropper than I already was, I cleared my throat. Genevieve flew upright, while Beatriz winced as she pushed herself up. She froze when she noticed me. Emotions flitted across her face, too fast to identify, before she dropped her gaze and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. As she moved, the firelight glistened off a pair of earrings I'd never noticed on her before.
"Well, this is a nice surprise. We weren't expecting you until dawn," Genevieve said, her brows high as she glanced at Beatriz' turned back then at me.
"Nisha sends her regards," I said, "And wanted me to remind Beatriz to practice, or she'll challenge me to a duel next time."
It was the wrong thing to say. Beatriz' shoulders slumped, while Genevieve widened her eyes at me, her lips pursed as she shook her head.
I hastily switched tack. "Are those new earrings?"
Somewhat mollified, Genevieve reached over to brush a finger against the teardrop-shaped rubies dangling at Beatriz' earlobes. "Nothing cheers a mood like jewelry," Genevieve said, as she slid across the bed to wrap a protective arm around Beatriz' neck, along her collarbones. "And nothing has cheered my mood more than that Beatriz brought my Coco back to me in one piece. They were a gift to say thank you."
Beatriz' hand came to rest atop Genevieve's arm and my chest constricted. Her arm was bandaged, the one whose gauntlet had stopped Nisha's blade. It took an almighty effort not to cross the room, sink to my knees before her, and inspect her for more damage.
Genevieve, the wicked thing, must have read that all over my face. She yawned dramatically and peeled her arm away from Beatriz. "Ma chère, I'm afraid I must retire if I have any hope of sleeping through your brother's snores. I had such a dreadful time last night, what with all that wind and those shingles..."
Behind Beatriz' back, Genevieve fixed me with a warning look. A look that said that Beatriz was not to be trifled with tonight. But no look was going to keep me from talking to her. From apologizing. From making she sure she hadn't broken beyond repair.
"Of course," Beatriz said, in a quiet, hesitant voice I barely recognized. She rose wearily, with another wince as her un-bandaged hand drifted to her side. I thought of Nisha and how, of all the blows Beatriz had landed, her split lip seemed to be the only injury troubling her while we'd eaten that evening. Perhaps there was more truth in her claim that Beatriz had grown weaker since she'd left for Relizia than I'd believed.
"May I?" I asked, extending my hand towards her.
Beatriz hesitated. Each moment that ticked past chipped away at a part of me that felt fragile enough to shatter. She eyed my hand. Blinked. Her throat bobbed. Finally, she nodded. It didn't feel like much of a triumph when she allowed me to tuck her hand into the crook of my elbow. She hadn't even met my gaze.
Behind her, Genevieve slid off the bed to follow us to the door. "Sleep well, ma chère." She rested a hand between Beatriz' shoulder blades, with another warning look at me, before she closed the door behind us.
Silence enveloped the pair of us. For the first time since I'd met her, I had no idea what to say. There were too many things and not enough words to convey what I needed to say, all at the same time.
"I–" I began when we reached her door, at the same time as Beatriz said "You–"
We both stopped and she finally looked up at me for the barest of moments before she looked away again. I knew that look. Shame. Heartbreak. Dread. The knowledge that I had a part in putting such a look on her face clenched painfully in my chest.
I didn't have much time, not if I wanted to reverse this. But in the few seconds it had taken me to devise a plan, to find the words, she'd already released me and opened her door.
"Good night," she said quietly, her back to me in the doorway.
"Beatriz." I caught the door before she could close it. Her cascading curls swept back over her shoulder as she looked at me through the crack I'd kept open.
"Please don't close this door. Please don't shut me out. I need to explain." When she didn't immediately answer, I added, "Please, Beatriz."
She didn't open the door, but she didn't close it either. She simply turned away and left me there. Mustering my courage, I pushed the door open to find a room barely bigger than mine, though at least it boasted an armoire, a washbasin atop a tiny table, and a chair beside it. The same kit she'd used to sew up her arm lay open on the table. I set my jaw against the well of disappointment that she hadn't wanted me there to help her.
She crossed to the bed and lowered herself gingerly onto its edge. She winced as she braced her good arm against her knee.
All of it was my own damned fault. And now I had to make it right.
"I'm not leaving you." I said, settling myself beside her on the bed, as close as I dared. "I wanted to tell you that today, before you fought, but I couldn't find you."
She pressed her eyes closed. Her chest rose and fell with a shaky sigh. "You don't have to lie, I–"
"I'm not lying," I said, slipping into Pretanian for fear my Ardal couldn't handle what I needed to tell her. "I was trying to con your brother into believing that I would go without a fight so he would send me alone. That way, I can intercept whatever missive my father sent with his men. I'm not going tomorrow so I can run away and leave you. I'm going so I won't be forced to."
She inspected her bandaged arm and said nothing. All those walls that had taken me all those weeks to break down were rising up between us again. I wasn't about to stand for that.
Bracing a forearm against my knee, I leaned over to peer up into her downturned face. I rested my hand against the edge of her bandages, careful to be gentle about it. "Let me tell you something true, then, to prove that everything this morning was a lie: I'd do anything to make sure I don't have to leave you. Anything to undo what my words did this morning. Anything to prove that I want to stay – that I will stay – for as long as you'll have me."
Finally, her eyes found mine. She searched my face and I allowed everything I was feeling to show. The creased brow of my worry. The pinched eyes of my fear. The parted lips of my desperation to convince her. She studied all of them before she dropped her gaze to her bandaged hand in her lap and where my fingers touched hers.
"Even after today?" she asked softly.
The walls weren't up yet. Not entirely. The tightness in my chest eased the tiniest of fractions.
"Especially after today. How could I possibly want to leave you when you fought so hard for me?" I drifted my fingers in a ghost of a caress over her bandages. "All this, just because you didn't want to surrender my virtue to your best friend before you had a taste yourself."
My attempt at levity fell flat when Beatriz remained silent.
I went on, "All she did was serve me dinner, you know. And ask about you. She didn't want–"
"I know." Beatriz said quickly, then amended. "Or at least...I hoped.You're not her type. At all."
I jerked my chin back, sarcastically affronted. "I beg your pardon, but I have it on excellent authority that..."
I trailed off when she looked up at me again, this time with a flicker of amusement in her brown eyes and the tiny tug of a smile at the corner of her mouth.
I relented and scraped a hand against the back of my neck. "She told me as much herself. Apparently she prefers her men like Rafael."
"Too bad Rafael doesn't prefer anyone. Not in that way, at least."
"Really?" I asked, thinking back to the time he'd torn his shirt off in an attempt to fluster me, after Beatriz had done the same.
Beatriz shrugged. "I've never been nosy enough to ask. I figure he'll tell us when he's ready."
She shifted her weight to rest her shoulder against mine. My arm slid carefully up her back, along her shoulders. When she didn't wince, I let it rest there.
"I haven't lost like that in a long time," Beatriz said finally, her voice barely more than a whisper.
I thought of the promise I'd made to Nisha, but pushed that away. Tonight was not the time to extol the virtues of more practice, not if her initial reaction to my first taunt was any indication. Tonight was for healing, for closing the wound that Beatriz' defeat had opened within her.
"You fought well. Had it not been for the dirt she threw in your face, I thought you had her."
"It doesn't matter how well I fought. I still lost."
"My mother always said it's not the loss that defeats us." I leaned my head against hers. "It's when we fail to pick ourselves up afterwards."
She remained silent for a few heartbeats before she said, "I think I'd really like your mother."
I smiled into her hair. "I think she'd like you, too."
For a blessed moment, I savoured the idea of returning home with Beatriz. I imagined the surprise Andrew would hide as he greeted her, uncertain what to make of my warrior princess. Anne would pepper her with questions about Bazera, about Relizia, about anything and everything she'd ever read in one of her books. Libby would stare, slack-jawed with awe, until Andrew would nudge her so she'd remember her manners. Mother would inspect her from head to toe and welcome her with a hug. Father...
I wouldn't think of him now, not when thinking of him only made me remember the men he'd sent to drag me away.
As if she could read my thoughts, Beatriz said, "Rafa told me about the plan. For tomorrow, I mean."
"I'm coming back." I tipped her chin up so she could see the sincerity on my face. "I mean it. They might want to take me home, but I won't go."
She brought a hand up to my cheek. I didn't like the way she was studying my face, as if committing it to memory. "You might have to. If it means winning your father's alliance, you'll have to."
I shook my head. "I relented this morning and didn't fight back against your brother because I want the chance to meet my father's men alone, without Frederico. Whatever my father promised, I'll make sure he keeps that promise even when I remain here, with you."
Beatriz' hand fell away. Her chest rose with a sigh. "Frederico won't let me go with you. He doesn't want to risk me being recognized."
I tightened my arm around her. "As much as it pains me to agree with your brother, he's right. Besides, you need rest. I expect you back in top shape when I return, ready to knock me flat on my back with a practice sword."
She studied her bandaged hand. "I might have lost to Nisha, but I can still knock you flat on your back. Maybe even with this injured arm."
There she was. Relief loosened the breath that had been caged in my chest from the moment Nisha had shoved her into the ground.
"How deep was it?" I asked.
"My gauntlet took the brunt of it. But Rafael still had to sew it closed for me."
I dragged my eyes up from her injuries to her face. Her mouth was set in a grim line as she looked down at her hands in her lap.
"Why did you hide from me?" I asked quietly.
Her mouth thinned even further. "Because I didn't want to face you. You were leaving. I'd lost." She shook her head and blew out a sigh.
"I'm sorry I made you think that." My eyes hadn't left her face, nor did they when she looked over at me again. "Next time I'll keep you apprised of my grand schemes against your brother."
Her lips quirked with amusement even as her brow lifted, unimpressed. "I've had about enough of you two being at each other's throats."
I patted a hand on her good thigh. "Then perhaps we ought to have a good family chat when I come back. I'll gladly declare my intentions, if that's what dear old Coco wants."
I only realized what I'd let slip when she called me on it.
"Your intentions?"
I stiffened. Raked a hand through my hair. Searched the room with my gaze, all to buy time to come up with some way around what I'd just accidentally confessed.
But...why did I need to buy time? We had precious little left, especially as my plan to talk my father's men around was no guarantee that they wouldn't chain me up and drag me all the way home. Why fake a courtier's cool nonchalance? None of those games had ever worked on her in the past. Honesty had gotten through to her last night. Honesty had stopped her from slamming her door in my face. Honesty had gotten her to stop looking at me as if I was about to crush her heart in my fist.
"I thought I'd made them clear enough last night." I inspected her face for her reaction. "If that's what you want, Beatriz, I'll tell your brother how I feel about you. I'll tell him everything."
Her lips parted as she searched my face in return. A few flecks of ochre remained along her cheekbones. My fingers itched to reach up and brush them away, to cradle her jaw between my fingers and bring my lips to hers. But the white of her bandage lurked in the periphery of my vision.
"You would do that?" Her whisper was so soft, I almost missed her saying, "For me?"
I couldn't help my rueful grin as I leaned my forehead against hers. "I think I'm too far gone to turn back now."
Her bandage scratched against my skin as she rested her hands against my face, pressing her forehead against mine. She'd squeezed her eyes shut as her hands trembled against my cheeks.
I wanted very badly to close what little distance remained between us. The urge to kiss her throbbed like an ache in my chest, but somehow, sitting with our heads bowed together like this, our breath mingling as my words settled over us, was far more intimate.
"I don't deserve you," she said softly.
Gently, I peeled her hands from my face, a chuckle rumbling in my chest. "Oh no darling, I'm the one who doesn't deserve you." Shoving down the part of me that longed to stay, I peeled myself off her bed and stood. "Now before I start composing love poetry like some lovesick ninny, I'll leave you to your rest and recovery."
She reached for my hand with her good one. "Don't leave."
She looked so terribly fragile as I gazed down at her and the plea in her eyes. A vulnerable version of my fierce warrior, with a stark white bandage on her wrist and a bulge along her thigh where another bandage no doubt lurked beneath her pant leg.
I tilted my head with a bemused smile as I brushed my fingers along her cheek. "I don't think that's such a good idea ton–"
"Not like that. Just..." She hesitated, searching for the words, then blew out her cheeks and leaned away. "Never mind."
I sat back down. "Tell me." I said gently, "What do you want, Beatriz?"
She hesitated again "I want you to stay. Like this." She leaned against me, into the curve of my arm, nestled together as we'd been earlier.
Warmth kindled in my chest, but this time it was that of a slow burning inferno rather than an explosion of sparks. "All right," I said, pulling her closer.
We leaned back against the wall, her head resting on my shoulder and my arm curled around her as we sat in silence. The candle on her table sank lower and lower and, eventually, her breathing smoothed into the even cadence of sleep. I debated slipping away, but her good hand had fisted into my shirt while she slept, her fingers knotted in the collar. It was a flimsy excuse not to allow her to sleep in peace, but, selfishly, I wanted to stay.
So, leaning my head against hers, I closed my eyes and stayed.
**A/N: Whew, that was one of the longest chapters I've ever posted! 😅 I hope you all enjoyed it (and please don't hold it against me when the next update won't be as long!)
What did you think of their talk?
What do you think will happen when he goes to meet the Pretanians?
And finally, as always, if you enjoyed it, please take a moment to vote and comment 😊❤️ **