Authors: Amanda Hocking
He hadn’t even known my father would be there that late. Konstantin happened to stumble
upon us in the hall. If Dad hadn’t been waiting for me, Konstantin wouldn’t even have
had a chance to do anything.
So why that night? Why that moment, when it wasn’t something he could’ve planned for?
And why try to kill the Chancellor, and not the King or Queen?
My mind was still swimming with what my dad had told me as I made the trek home in
the darkness. The air was crisp and clean, even if it did leave my face icy, and I
shoved my hands deeper in my pockets. The moon had begun to wane, but it was still
bright and rather fat, illuminating the clear sky.
It was late enough that the cobblestone roads leading away from my parents’ house
were empty. Even the chickens and goats that frequently wandered the area had gone
home to rest for the night.
I heard another set of footsteps, echoing off the stone, coming toward me from a cross
street, but I didn’t really register them. I was too lost in my thoughts, trying to
figure out what I was missing with Konstantin.
“You don’t see enough of me already, so you’ve resorted to stalking me?” Ridley asked,
and I glanced up to see him walking over to me, grinning crookedly.
“What?” I was startled by him, and it took a second for me to realize he was joking.
Then I smiled back and motioned toward my parents’ place. “No. I was just coming from
my parents’ cottage.”
“Likely story.” He’d reached me, and we both stood in the middle of the empty road.
“Care if I join you?”
“Sure.” I shrugged and started walking north again, and he fell in stride beside me.
“We’re gonna have to split off soon, though. Your place is west, and mine is east.”
“We’ll worry about it when we come to it. For now, let’s just enjoy the time we have
together,” he said simply.
We walked for a little while, neither of us saying anything. I wished that silence
had felt comfortable and easy between us, like it used to. But now it felt thick and
heavy, filled with things that I didn’t want to say.
“Aren’t you gonna accuse me of being the one stalking you?” Ridley asked finally,
and he’d fallen a bit behind, so I slowed to meet his steps.
“No.” I stared down at the road, watching pebbles crunch underneath my feet, and I
found myself saying something I’d been trying to pretend wasn’t true. “I assumed you
were coming from Juni’s.”
“I was,” he admitted. “You don’t like her very much, do you?”
“No, of course I like her,” I said, probably too quickly and too enthusiastically,
but that had to be better than confessing how I really felt. “She’s fantastic and
probably the nicest person that’s ever lived. What’s not to like?”
“You say that, but you sound annoyed.”
“I don’t mean to. I’m not.” I looked over at him, forcing the brightest smile I could
manage. “She’s great. I’m happy for you. For both of you.”
“Thanks,” he said, sounding as halfhearted as I had.
“Just…” A lump grew in my throat, thick and suffocating, and yet I continued to talk
around it, asking a question that I knew I shouldn’t ask. Even as the words fell out
of my mouth, twisting my heart painfully, I wished I hadn’t said anything at all.
“Why her?”
“Why her what?” Ridley asked.
“You dated all these girls for so long, and when I say ‘dated,’ I’m using the word
very liberally.” Words kept tumbling out as I struggled to explain away what I really
meant. “Because you had a string of girls you saw maybe once or twice, and I get that
Juni’s perfect.” I paused, remembering that she was actually amazing. “I mean, she
is
perfect
. But…” I trailed off. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m asking.”
He didn’t answer right away, which only made me more nervous. My stomach churned,
and my heart had begun to beat so rapidly, I’d begun to feel weak. Why had I said
anything at all? Why couldn’t I just forget that I felt anything for Ridley? Why was
it so hard not to want something I knew I could never have?
“Things changed,” he said at length. “I’m getting older, and running around doesn’t
have the same appeal. I realized that I don’t wanna do that anymore. That I don’t
want to be that guy, and I’m sick of living like I’m just a kid without a care in
the world. I care about things, I have responsibilities, and I want just
one
girl.”
“That all makes sense,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure if it did or not. I just
wanted to end the conversation and move on to something that felt much less terrifying
and painful.
“Does it? I hoped it did. Sometimes I just ramble.”
“I’ve long since suspected that.” I tried to keep my tone light, to make a joke of
things, but I wasn’t sure if it worked.
Either way, we didn’t say anything more, and we’d finally reached the fork in the
road. A small, triangle-shaped sweets shop diverged the road into two paths—one going
to the west end, where Ridley lived among the mansions, and one to the east end, where
I lived in my loft above the barn.
“Here we are.” I stopped and turned to face him, since it seemed rude to just walk
away, even though I really wanted to.
Ridley looked around, as if expecting to find something exciting. “Where are we?”
“The point where we should split off.” I gestured to the two roads.
“Why here? Why not keep going a block that way?” He stuck his thumb back behind him,
at the road that led to his house.
“The road splits here, and that’ll take me a block out of my direction.”
“Then I’ll go that way,” he offered and pointed to my road.
I shook my head. “That’ll take you a block out of your way.”
“Maybe I don’t mind going out of my way. Maybe I like the extra detour.” He was smiling,
but his eyes were serious. “Would it be so bad if I wanted to spend a few more minutes
with you?”
“It’s not bad. It’s just…” I stopped when I saw color splashing on his face, and I
turned my gaze up at the night sky to the aurora borealis shimmering above us. “Look
at that.”
Vibrant blue shifting to brilliant violet light illuminated the ether in winding arcs.
Stars glimmered like diamonds in the indigo sky as pulsating hues washed across the
night sky in luscious waves.
“Oh wow,” he whispered.
“It’s amazing.” I stared up in awe at the dazzling colors dancing across the clear
night sky. “No matter how many times I see the northern lights, I’m still stunned
by how beautiful they are.”
“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean,” Ridley said. There was something low and meaningful
in his voice that made me turn to him, but he was already looking at me.
“What?” I asked, confused by the somberness in his expression.
“Before when we were talking, were you asking why
her
?” The aurora above us reflected on his face, and his dark eyes were filled with heat.
“Or were you asking why
not
you?”
“No. No.” I avoided his gaze and ran my hand through my hair. “I would never. No.”
I swallowed hard. “I know why not me.”
“Why not you?” he repeated.
“Because it’s wrong.” I finally met his eyes and tried to smile at him, trying to
play off the growing pain in my chest. “There’s a million reasons why not me, and
you know them all. And you don’t … you don’t even want to anyway.”
He smiled in disbelief at me. “I’ve wanted to kiss you practically since the day I
met you. But I knew you would never let me.”
“How would you know that if you never tried?” I asked, and then I was too nervous
to even breathe, terrified of what might happen next.
For a second he only stared at me, and I wished I’d never said anything. I wished
I’d left my parents’ house five minutes sooner so I wouldn’t even have seen him at
all tonight, and I wouldn’t be playing this stupid game where I pretend that we like
each other or that we could ever be together. Because I know we can’t, and he knows
we can’t, so it’s better if he just walks away. If he just turns around and leaves
me here alone, but my heart is thudding painfully in my chest, begging him to kiss
me.
And just when I’m certain he won’t, and I’m about to turn and hurry away in shame,
he’s there. His lips are cold, pressing hungrily against mine. His fingers knotting
in my hair, pulling me to him. His stubble scrapes against my lips and cheeks, but
I don’t mind, I like it. I love everything about him that feels so real, touching
me, holding me.
I wrap my arms around his neck, and I bury my hands in his hair. It’s longer and thicker
than I thought it would be, and I feel the curls at the nape of his neck wrapping
around my fingertips.
He’s strong, stronger than I thought he’d be, and his arm around my waist is crushing
me to him so hard that I can barely breathe. But I don’t care. I don’t want to breathe.
I just want to kiss him forever, tasting him on my lips, feeling him against me.
But then he pulls away, gasping for breath, but he keeps his face close to mine.
And then suddenly, as oxygen fills my lungs, my senses take hold of me, and I realize
exactly how wrong that was. I let go of him and step back, even though it kills me
a little to do it.
Ridley stands there, his arms falling to his side, as he watches me back away from
him.
“I have to go,” I say, because I can’t think of anything better, and then I turn and
I’m running as fast as my legs will carry me, as far away from Ridley as I can get.
“I didn’t expect to see you,” Tilda said with ice in her voice, but she’d let me into
her place, so it couldn’t be all bad.
She lived in a small apartment above an electronics store. On the outside, the store
appeared to be an ordinary shop, like a haberdashery from a village in a fairy tale.
But inside, it was filled with slick gadgets—all of them a model or two behind whatever
was most popular with the humans, since we did a horrible job of stocking and ordering
things. Besides, there wasn’t
that
much of a demand for them in Doldastam.
Still, Tilda’s apartment had to be one of the more modern spaces in town. Her furniture
reminded me of the hotel I’d visited in Calgary, and she had a stainless steel dishwasher
next to her sink—the only one I’d ever seen in Doldastam. A flat-screen TV sat across
from her sofa, and while TV wasn’t unheard-of here, it wasn’t exactly a staple in
every home.
“So what is it that I can do for you?” Tilda folded her arms over her chest, and the
loose fabric of her tank top shifted, showing the slight swelling of her belly that
I should’ve realized the significance of sooner.
“I just wanted to talk to you.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and tried not to visibly
recoil under the scrutiny of her glare. “I needed to apologize for the things I said
yesterday. I was out of line.”
“Damn right you were,” Tilda snapped, but she stepped back from me, giving me room
to move in from the entryway. She sighed and rolled her eyes before turning to walk
into the kitchen. “Do you want anything? I was gonna make some tea.”
“Sure. I’ll have whatever you’re having,” I said, following behind her.
“Blackberry and hibiscus it is.” Her long chestnut hair was pulled back in a ponytail,
and it swayed behind her as she moved around, putting the kettle on the stove to boil,
and getting the tea and cups out from the cupboard.
Then she turned back to face me, her arms once again crossed over her chest, her gray
eyes staring at me expectantly. “So? Where’s the apology?”
“I am really and truly sorry for everything that I said to you at the meeting yesterday,”
I told her emphatically. “I was upset about things that weren’t your fault and really
had nothing to do with you, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You’re my friend,
and I should’ve been happy for you.”
“That’s true.” She relaxed a bit. “You have your own bag of issues with love and relationships
that I don’t even wanna get into, but that is
your
deal, and you had no right to take it out on me.”
“No. You’re absolutely right,” I agreed. “I acted like a jerk for no reason, and I’m
sorry. Honestly, I’m very happy for you. If you’re happy and this is what you want.”
“I am happy, and this is what I want.” Her whole face lit up when she put her hand
on her stomach. “I love Kasper, and although this baby wasn’t exactly planned, I’m
happy about it.”
“You’ll make a great mom,” I said, and I meant it.
She smiled gratefully at me. “Thank you.”
The kettle whistled, so she turned away and poured the hot water into cups. Carefully,
she scooped the fresh tea leaves from the tin, and filled two acorn-shaped infusers
with the leaves before dropping them in the cups.
“Now, what’s going on with you this morning?” Tilda asked as she handed me a cup.
I leaned back against the counter and sipped my tea before replying. “What do you
mean?
“Bags under your eyes, your hair isn’t brushed, and you look like hell,” she said
bluntly. “Did you get any sleep last night?”
I ran my fingers through my tangles of hair, trying to smooth it out, before giving
up. “I got some sleep.”
“So what was keeping you up?” she asked.
Last night, I kissed Ridley, and then ran away so fast that by the time I got home
I could barely breathe. It was a horrible, terrible mistake that I had no idea how
to correct, but it was also wonderful and magical, and part of me—too large of a part,
really—kept trying to figure out how to make it happen again.
“That might be too much to get into right now,” I said, because it was much easier
than explaining anything else, and I bobbed the infuser up and down in my cup.
A key clicked in the lock, and both Tilda and I looked at the front door to her apartment.
Her boyfriend Kasper pushed open the door, dressed in his Högdragen uniform. The fabric
fit snugly on his broad shoulders, and his black hair was cropped in short, neat curls.