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Authors: Kimberly Chapman

Tags: #romance, #love, #adventure, #alcoholism, #addiction, #fantasy, #feminism, #intrigue, #royalty, #romance sex

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BOOK: Sorrows of Adoration
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I fell to my knees at
the foot of my Prince and future King, ashamed of myself for
everything that had occurred, from my open discussion of everything
we had ever talked about to allowing him to kiss me.

He came to me
immediately and pulled me to my feet, brushing the snow from my
knees. “Don’t do that, Aenna,” he said. “You’ll freeze in the
snow!”

I looked at him
seriously, one of his hands still on my arm from having lifted me
to my feet. “I’m right, aren’t I? You’re Prince Kurit.”

He seemed about to deny
it, or explain it, but opted instead to simply say, “Yes.”

A rage filled my
mind. I shook his hand from my arm and walked away from him. I
thought,
How
could this be? How could I have not known, not realized the obvious
truth sooner? What a fool I am!

“Wait, Aenna,” he
called, and I stopped but did not turn to face him. “I’m sorry. I
should have told you. But Jarik claimed to be me when you asked at
the outpost because, well, because that’s his duty. You could have
been coming in to kill me. Of course you weren’t, but had you been
then you would have gone to strike Jarik instead. That’s his role,
at the moment, to ensure that I live.

“Then you fainted, and
on the road we decided to do as you say was wise, to have Jarik
wear my cloak and serve as a decoy while I went to fend for myself.
I would have revealed myself to you then, but Jarik had planned
that you would go with him, and if you were leading us to a trap,
knowingly or not, he would then be taken to the trap instead of me.
But you insisted on not slowing him down. He wasn’t going to drag
you along against your will, and I wasn’t going to let you go off
on your own, because truly we did believe you to be good. We just
would have been fools to not take precautions.” He approached and
tried to look at me, but I kept my face turned from him. “Aenna,
really, we didn’t think you were lying, and we didn’t mean to lie
to you—it was just prudent, given that we didn’t know you.”

“I understand that,” I
said, shock, dismay, and fury bubbling inside me dangerously. “I
would have recommended the same course of action in his place.
But …” I had started to say there was no reason for the lie to
have continued, but I was too furious to put the words together. I
started towards Endren again, my footsteps hard and loud in the
creaking snow.

“Aenna,” he called
after me, “please don’t be angry with me. I was going to tell you
the truth.”

I stopped again and
spun myself back towards him. “When?” I cried, too upset by then to
keep my tongue. “When we arrived at the city and the guards
recognized you?”

He was clearly at a
loss for further explanation and held his hands out plaintively. “I
don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Splendid,” I spat in
fury and started again to storm away.

He ran to catch up with
me and put himself before me. I did not stop walking, just lowered
my head to not look at his face. He matched my steps walking
backwards, placing his hands on my shoulders, trying to stop me. I
refused to look at his eyes, knowing well that if I did I would
burst into tears. That was the source of my anger—the knowledge
that I had made a fool of myself in thinking my silly dreams that
such a man might love me, a poor little peasant girl. Those dreams
were now as the wind, fleeting and gone, and I was hurt and angry
for it.

“Aenna, please,” he
said, finally managing to stop me, but failing to make me look at
him. “I’m sorry. Truly I am. Please don’t be angry at me for what I
had to do.”

Under my breath, such
that it was barely audible to either of us, I muttered, “I’m not
angry with you. I’m angry with myself.”

“Why?”

“You wouldn’t
understand.” I tried to pull myself free, but his hands remained
gripped to my shoulders as he tried to make eye contact with
me.

“What wouldn’t I
understand? Please, I’m truly sorry.”

“Sorry that the poor
peasant girl wasn’t willing to give up more than a few kisses?” I
snapped, finally looking into his eyes. I saw them widen in shock
at my words, but I was too enraged to have the sense to stop
speaking. “Just because I’m poor, alone, and have nowhere to go
doesn’t mean I’ll be your tawdry little tart!”

He stepped back,
letting go of my shoulders, and it was obvious my words had cut
him. I felt tears rolling down my cheeks, and I cursed myself
inwardly for them. This was no time to weep like a weak little
girl.

“Is that what you
think?” he asked, clearly aghast at my accusation. “That I was
trying all along to seduce you?”

I could look at him no
more, not with the look of shame and pain in his eyes. I put my
hands over my face to hide the sight of him from myself and to hide
my now freely flowing tears from him.

“Is that what you truly
think?” he asked, his voice pained.

“Why else would you
show me affection?” I said quietly through my hands, ashamed that I
had spoken so rudely to him. My anger gave way to great heartache,
a deep agony that I had allowed myself to dream of a future that
could clearly never be.

He came to me again,
laying a gentle and tentative hand on my arm. “Because I meant it.
I meant every word I said, and the affection of my kisses was real.
Whether my name is Jarik or Kurit does not change that.”

I looked at him through
my fingers, feeling a greater shame than I had known possible. I
wished desperately that the snow beneath my feet would melt into a
river and carry me away. My throat was tight, and fighting sobs, I
barely was able to whisper, “But being the Prince changes it.”

“How?” he asked. He
tried to pull me into an embrace, but I stepped back from him. “I’m
the same man I was last night. I still find you enchanting.”

I dropped my
hands to my sides in frustration, the cold air stinging my wet
cheeks.
How
can he go on like this,
I wondered,
playing this game that is tearing at my heart?
“Until we reach the palace
gates,” I said, “and then you’ll realize you’ve had an infatuation
for a dirty little peasant girl, and you’ll send me merrily on my
way.”

“No. No,” he said,
shaking his head emphatically. “I have no intention of doing
anything of the sort. You saved my life.”

“And I told you I
expected no reward. It was my duty.”

“So you keep saying.
And I deeply admire that. I do. You are a remarkable woman, Aenna
of Alesha. I spoke honestly when I told you that I had not met your
equal. And it matters not to me whether you’re the poorest peasant
girl in the kingdom, or the daughter of the wealthiest lord. I know
some very wealthy, beautiful, eligible maidens that I utterly
detest. I am enchanted by you for who you are. You amaze me.”

“Stop, please.” His
words were kind, but they cut my heart like a cruel blade, for I
knew that despite his good intentions, I would not be allowed to
love him as I already did.

“No,” he said again,
loudly this time, with a force behind it. “I will not stop. I adore
you. Please, don’t push me away.” With that he embraced me, and
though I wanted to back away, I found myself allowing him to hold
me as a fresh batch of tears poured forth from my eyes.

“But it can’t be,” I
said. I felt so stupid and pathetic to weep so, but I could not
seem to stop. Never before had I felt so weak, but then, never
before had anything moved me the way this man did. “Why are you
breaking my heart? Why do you insist on pretending that you could
have feelings for me that could last, when we both know full well
that the Prince cannot love a peasant?”

“Under what law?” he
asked, pulling back to look at me again.

“The law that makes you
the heir to the throne, and makes any woman that you—” I could not
finish. I dared not say the words, lest I reveal the future of
which I had indulged myself to imagine the night before.

His expression
lightened as he understood me. “Any woman that I marry must
eventually be Queen?” I lowered my face quickly, ashamed that I had
implied such a thing. But he would have none of it and tipped my
chin up. I tried to avoid his eyes but became locked in his gaze.
His expression was of tender concern. “Aenna, is that what these
tears and this anger is about? That you worry that I could not feel
affection for you because I must marry a woman worthy of being
Queen?” I said nothing, too ashamed and hurt to speak. “Is that why
you’re so upset?” he asked tenderly.

I closed my eyes,
overpowered by the intensity of his look. “Forgive me, Your
Highness, I didn’t mean to sound presumptuous,” I whispered, my
throat locked. I tried to gulp the lump away but gave up and
whispered again, very quietly, as if it made my thoughts less
shameful. “When you kissed me last night, I foolishly allowed
myself to dream of a future with you. Now that I know you are not
Jarik, who I already felt so far beneath, but in fact the Prince
himself, I know I am unworthy of such a future, and my foolishness
leaves me broken-hearted and ashamed.”

“Oh, sweet Aenna,” he
said softly as he pulled me back into a tight embrace. My head was
on his shoulder, and as the night before, he cupped it tenderly.
“You are worthy,” he said intently, kissing my forehead after he
spoke. “You are more worthy than any woman alive. I would not have
allowed myself to develop this adoration for you otherwise. People
cannot travel together as we have these past days without having an
idea of what the other is truly like. There has been no time for
pretence, no energy to spare for silly charades or games of
courtship. And you have demonstrated yourself to be brave, strong,
even fearless. Never once have I seen you shy away from danger. You
have not asked for help—indeed, you have offered your assistance.
You gave up your entire life to alert me to a danger, though you
did not even know me. You have shown dedication to your kingdom and
to me, both as a Prince and a man with whom you travelled. If these
things do not make you worthy of respect and affection, I cannot
imagine what would.”

He lifted my face with
both hands and brushed away my tears with his thumbs. Then he
kissed me, not with the jubilance that he had the night before, but
with a deliberate and intense passion. I could not help but return
it, loving him already as I did. When he embraced me again my tears
continued to flow, but I didn’t know what to feel. I was
unconvinced of my alleged worthiness and certainly doubted it would
be believed by anyone else. But I was also filled with relief that
it seemed he had not been manipulating me intentionally, and deep
inside me lurked the desperate hope that he spoke the truth.

“Please, Aenna, I’m
sorry I did this to you. It was unfair. I should have told you who
I was, if not days ago then at least before kissing you last night.
That was wrong—I know it now. I just wasn’t thinking. It was
foolish and irresponsible, and I’m honestly sorry for that. But,
please, give me a chance to redeem myself. Let me prove to you that
I was not infatuated by convenience, by the fact that you were
simply there. Please say you’ll give me that chance, that you’ll
still come to the palace with me.”

What was I to say? Deny
that which I desired above all else? Refuse to forgive him, when I
already had? I could say nothing.

He raised my face in
his hands again, this time kissing away my tears from my cheeks.
Then he looked at me, expecting an answer.

Still unable to speak,
I nodded slowly.

“You’ll give me a
chance then?”

I nodded again,
although I was already putting my heart in a safe place within my
soul, since I suspected that once we returned he would brush me
aside in favour of a more worthy choice. But none of these thoughts
did I betray to him, neither in expression nor word.

He was delighted that I
had agreed to give him a chance, and he kissed me again, as he had
the night before, merrily and with an ease of spirit. I tried to
return it in kind despite my doubts.

Happily he grasped my
hand and said, “Let’s be off then, shall we? And, please, no more
tears. Aenna, it breaks my heart to see tears on the cheeks of such
a strong woman. I promise, I shall prove to you everything I’ve
said. You shall see soon that I am sincere.”

* * *

I tried to cheer up as
we walked hand in hand towards the city. I was unable to entirely
hide my concern from him, though—that much was clear from his
behaviour along the last stretch of the journey. He was as he had
been that first day, roguish and full of jests, trying to make me
smile, and his very silliness often made him succeed. Still, my
heart was heavy with the fear that it would all soon end.

When the city walls
came into view, I stopped. Kurit stopped with me, still holding my
hand in his own, and asked what was wrong.

I looked at him
worriedly. How could I explain that despite my concession to allow
him to demonstrate his affection, I doubted very much that he would
do so? Beyond those walls was not a bright future with this man as
he promised but inevitable sorrow, and I was afraid. He had told me
I was worthy of him because I was so brave, and yet there I stood,
fearing so much.

He misinterpreted my
worry. “Aenna, we’re safe now. Guards stand ready at that gate to
escort us to comfort and safety. They are probably expecting us to
emerge from the wilderness any day now.”

Wonderful,
I
thought.
Guards stand ready to take us to the palace where I shall
be told, ‘Thank you very much, now please don’t make a scene on
your way out.’

My continued
silence and refusal to continue walking seemed to worry him. I
thought,
Ah,
now he’ll see that I am not so brave and bold as he imagines. Now
he shall realize how wrong he was and reconsider his feelings for
me. Here begins the end,
I told myself.

BOOK: Sorrows of Adoration
5.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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