* * * *
The midnight hour had come and gone when they retreated inside. Wine had never made Clarysa as drunk as Stellan’s kisses. She wanted to stay up and talk, but he insisted she rest for a few hours before he escorted her back to Aldebaran.
Hands entwined, they descended to the main floor. At the door of her guest room, Stellan slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. He gave her a passionate kiss goodnight. Breathless, Clarysa watched him leave for his quarters. The deep shadows of the passageway quickly swallowed him.
As soon as he was gone, the hairs along the back of her nape rose. Cautiously, Clarysa stepped forward, peering into the gloom. There it was–an open door a few rooms down. Candlelight spilled through the narrow opening. Clarysa detected the face of a woman.
Patrulha.
Clarysa waved, but the Captain of the Guard swiftly shut the door. Clarysa put a finger to her swollen lips. How much of her intimate exchange with Stellan had Patrulha seen? Did it bother her in some way? Feeling uneasy, Clarysa shut her door and went to bed.
* * * *
After a refreshing sleep, Clarysa rose, made herself presentable, and went to the kitchen. Gretchen was already up preparing breakfast. Ghyslain was setting the table. Stellan sat there cutting bread.
“Good morning, all,” Clarysa said from the doorway.
“Good morning, Princess,” Gretchen said merrily. She winked as Clarysa headed for the table. “Did you have a lovely dinner?”
“I did, thank you.”
Gretchen slowly stirred the large kettle of porridge. “I heard the entertainment portion of the evening lasted far into the night. Now that must have been something to see.”
Clarysa blushed. “I, ah… The pipe organ made beautiful music.” Heavens, how much does she know?
Ghyslain snorted out his laughter, dropping a piece of silverware in the process.
“Enough,” growled Stellan.
Clarysa looked at him in alarm. But he appeared more contemplative than angry. The tension drained from her shoulders.
“You can sit here,” he told her, pointing to the space on his left.
Clarysa sat. Gretchen ladled out porridge and drizzled a generous dollop of honey over each bowl. The way Stellan and Ghyslain attacked their food, she guessed they considered honey an indulgence.
A series of knowing looks passed between the gypsy woman and her son as the four of them sat eating. Clarysa didn’t mind. If her association with Stellan brought them comfort and happiness, then it was a good sign of things to come.
Stellan still maintained his guard, but he didn’t scowl nearly as much as the previous night. When Clarysa pressed her thigh against his, he didn’t move away.
A half hour later, she and Stellan were astride their horses, ready to depart. Gretchen, Ghyslain, and Froll saw them off.
“Come back soon,” Gretchen called as she and the prince rode off.
Clarysa smiled and waved at the gypsy family, but her heart was sinking. If I even can.
Snow fell at a steady pace. Clarysa coaxed him into conversation by telling jokes and plying him with more questions about his habits and pastimes. Along the way, they made a few stops to rest or kiss, but mostly to kiss. At the edge of the Snowflake Kingdom, warm sunshine replaced the chilly precipitation and so they removed their heavy cloaks and scarves.
After they crossed the Aldebaran border, Clarysa gasped. She motioned for Stellan’s silence, and quickly led him off the road. They hid behind a group of oak trees.
“Did you see them?” she asked.
Stellan nodded.
Clarysa frowned. “My father’s men.”
Stellan leaned forward on crossed arms. “Let me guess. You left without permission.”
Clarysa hung her head. “I-I couldn’t possibly stay away. My father is wrong about you, and I’m going to prove it.”
Stellan frowned. “By losing his trust? By placing yourself in a position where he will likely never be open to the encroaching Pestilence threat–or us?”
Clarysa bit her lip. “I know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Her eyes burned. “I’m stupid that way.” Scalding tears ran down her cheeks.
The prince nudged his horse alongside hers. He coaxed her chin upward with his fingertips. “Look at me.”
As she did, he smiled. “I fear you’re going to be in dire straits, but I’m glad you risked it.” Cupping her cheek, he leaned forward and gently brushed her lips with his.
Clarysa sighed and pulled back. “I’d better go before I make matters even worse.” She brushed his cheek with her fingers. “Come to the next hunt–but don’t let Edward see you! I’ll send word to Lionel. He’ll help us arrange a meeting.”
Stellan nodded, his expression turning stony.
Clarysa stared resolutely ahead as she guided her horse from the forest. If she looked back upon Stellan’s face again she might never return home. She spurred the horse down the road. Within minutes, the company of Aldebaran royal guards surrounded her. Despite the warm sun shining upon her, Clarysa shivered. She knew what was to come only too well.
* * * *
The King berated Clarysa long and loudly. Blustery words castigated her for hours. All of her family gathered to watch, their faces congested with disapproval. Clarysa stood with arms crossed. Let them stew in their righteous indignation. She may not have made the safest decision, but at least she’d tried to do the right thing. Why couldn’t her father understand the stakes?
Edward in particular looked as if plagued by a constantly foul smell. Clarysa groaned inwardly as her brother waxed ad infinitum about her “deceitful,” “irresponsible,” and “delinquent” behavior. He even offered to ride immediately to Vandeborg to strike a verbal reprisal against Stellan. Edward and her father argued over the proposal for some time, with the King eventually ruling it would be quite unnecessary.
“Now, Clarysa,” her father said, “Before I declare my final thoughts on the matter, do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“I love him,” was all she would say.
Sharp intakes of breath echoed about the court.
“So be it. My decision is
