Part 13 (1/2)

It was over.

My time with the guys was over.

No more ricken. No more tuble.

No more games that were like jousts but they didn't have lances and charge each other. They had blunt swords and beat each other off their horses. At first, I thought this was a little brutal. But then I noticed Laures was really good at it and everyone around me in the arena (with actual bleachers and enormous colorful pendants flying from posts all around) was really into it. So I got into it too. In a big way.

Also no more delicious, herbed, roasted meat on a stick bought from venders at fayres.

And no more watching girls dancing with streaming ribbons and fluffy skirts at festivals.

Further, no more telling Alek made-up pirate stories while we lay on our backs on the deck of the s.h.i.+p, rough wool blankets under us, another one pulled up to our chins, as we stared up at the stars.

We were in Lunwyn, met by someone the men didn't introduce me to who gave us a trunk with more stuff for me. This included boots, heavier clothing and capes, hats and gloves-the last three all made of fur or lined hides.

And off the horse I was, put in a sleigh (a sleigh! And a cool one!) with my trunk at the back and we'd ridden for three days across the icy landscape.

I had to admit, it was just as beautiful as the graceful exquisiteness of Fleuridia and the sumptuous splendor of Hawkvale.

It was just covered in snow and ice.

And freezing cold.

Now it was done and I'd had four months to come up with my plan, which I'd done.

It scared me but it also excited me.

A new beginning.

A new life.

A new me.

All of it mine. All of it made by my hand, my decisions, my work.

Or it would be.

I was terrified.

And I couldn't wait.

But after we climbed the stairs, Derrik opened the door and handed me the key, I knew I'd miss the guys.

Badly.

I pulled in a very deep breath and got control as I let it go.

Then I looked up at him.

”Thank you again for everything, honey,” I whispered.

”Maddie, I'll see you again in a few hours,” he replied, not whispering.

He wouldn't.

I was going to take a bath, eat, drink wine, speak with Apollo (who Derrik was off to announce our arrival to and bring back to the inn for our chat).

Then I was going to leave.

I didn't say that. Maybe because of that time my father said it to me with such finality when I announced I was going to marry Pol. He was telling me I couldn't because Pol was a criminal. I was telling him I was twenty-three and I could do what I wanted. Then I'd never seen Dad again, except for when I was forced to go back and he'd shut the door in my face (twice), but I didn't figure those counted.

Yeah, maybe this was why I hated good-byes.

So I didn't intend to say them.

I was just going to go.

I'd write them letters later (maybe).

”I'll see you his evening,” Derrik murmured and moved to leave.

But I called his name and he turned back.

”Thank you,” I repeated.

”Maddie-”

I shook my head, lifted my hand and felt so much emotion I couldn't speak in a normal voice. Therefore, what I had to say came out trembling and low.

But I forced it to come out.

”You know about him,” I stated and Derrik's jaw went hard.

Over the months, the dinners, the long rides, the sitting in pubs or on the gra.s.s or out under the stars and talking, I'd told him. At first a little. Then a lot. He and Achilles, both of them, I'd told all about Pol.

He knew.

”I haven't felt free in eleven years,” I whispered.

A muscle jumped in his cheek and his eyes bored into mine.

”Thank you for making me feel free,” I finished.

Then I swept into the room, closed the door and told myself one day I'd forget the love and tenderness that suffused Derrik's face at my words.

But I was lying.