Page 62 of Unbetrothed

Milo yelled back to us from his seat, “I aim to please his royal pain-in-my-rear.”

Zichri leaned in, his breath tickling my ear. “He calls me that because he can’t beat me in a good wrestling match.”

I turned to him, his face mere inches from mine. Why must my heart cling to the impossible? Catching my breath, I dragged a finger over an old scar on his eyebrow and grazed my fingertip down his cheek. No one would know about this. We wouldn’t even see each other again unless … I let the thought trail.

Recoiling, I remembered myself. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. There’s much I regret and wish I could change.” He pulled away and pressed his back against the side of the wagon.

I couldn’t stay silent. “Why were you in Giddel?”

He glanced in my direction. “I can’t say. Just know that I wish Himzo and Giddel were on good terms.” His fingers slipped through his wavy locks.

My heart throbbed. “What would that change?” I swallowed hard, anticipating the response. I was far too attached, and his answer could be anything but good.

He fixed those dark eyes on me, revealing a well of emotions. That was answer enough. “Everything. I’d be in line with all those suitors fighting for your hand.”

My breath caught, imagining what it would be like to marry Zichri. Each day I would awaken to his handsome face and kind heart. We’d get ourselves into all sorts of trouble. But, like all my dreams, a shadow cast over it. Zichri brushed his knuckles against mine. Instead of speaking, I leaned back against the wooden side, letting my thoughts sway with the wagon.

Before I knew it, Milo called back to us, “We’re at the road.”

The wagon jerked to a stop on the easttrail, ending my daydreams. Gonzalo was long gone since he had turned up a lane an hour ago. I should have bid him farewell. Blas and Milo stood up. Deflated, Jaime and Laude stepped off the wagon. I tried to think fast, but my mind muddled.

I went through the motions of getting up and lowering onto the gravel road, hoping to stall somehow. “Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I never expected even half of the help you gave us.” My words sounded hollow.

Blas dipped his head while holding his stomach, exhibiting no trace of his previous ease. Jaime hugged Laude. The tender way he wiped stray tears from Laude’s face twisted within my gut. Then he offered her his black and gold dagger, reminding me of the possible dangers ahead. The sky grew gray, adding to a foreboding that seeped deep into my bones.

“Princess Beatriz.” Nothing sounded more beautiful than the way Zichri said my name. He placed the handle of his sheathed dagger into my palm. “You will need this. Keep it on your belt.”

I nodded.

“Good. I wish I could have run off with you, but it seems we must part.” He gestured to the northern side of the trail, which looked just as lush as the forests to the south.

“So it seems.” My throat thickened.

“You needn’t say more, my dear.” He traced my jawline. “Which window should I stand under if I ever sneak into Giddel again?” He pressed a hand to my back and lifted one arm high as if he meant to dance.

“My balcony can be seen by the road and is the closest to the sea. Is this an invitation to dance?”

He beamed at the question, leading me in the traditional Paso Giddelian as he hummed the same tune Papá and I danced to at my ceremonia. Always the one to notice details. His strong hand guided me easily into a half-spin. My feet moved through the steps on their own. His melody slowed. He spun and dipped me with a firm grip.

Rather than bring me back up, he whispered, “How many balconies are there?”

I flinched but answered, “There are three in the front and three in the back. Mine is closest to the sea near the watchtower.” Why in all the seas was he focusing so much on these details? Sneaking into the palace was impossible.

He lifted me in one smooth motion. “I promise to always be your loyal guard.”

I stared up at his tousled hair—letting seconds pass between us. “Goodbye, Prince Zichri of Himzo.”

He bowed his head, looking up at me through his thick lashes. Like all good things, whateverthiswas had ended.

Milo shouted, “We’re pressed for time. Come now, you two knuckleheads.”

Who does he think he is, calling me a knucklehead?Jaime and Zichri plodded toward Milo, and oh … he hadn’t been referring to me.

I looped my arm through Laude’s. She whimpered and waved. “This is the worst day of my life.”

“Ai-yi-yi, Laude.” If she only knew about the idea nudging in my mind.

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