Page 71 of Falling Princess

Guilt made my stomach hurt. After moping for an afternoon, I pulled myself together and composed a more encouraging reply, mindful that Raina was not my only audience.

I wish I had advice for you; as you know, I am inexperienced in such matters. I wish you luck and happiness with Lorcan. About those tisanes...

After Raina’s letter, my resolve to forget him crumbled.Where is Lorcan? What is he doing?

I finally cracked and asked my father where he’d gone.

“He’s on a mission,” my father replied, absently. “Might be back in time to escort you to the Sky Shrine, might not.”

I hope not. I don’t want him to see me like a half-drowned kitten that fell into the moat, in mid-January.

“Does that mean we’re not returning to Royals University?” I blurted out.

“If he makes it back,” my father responded, cryptically, without looking up from his ledger book.

I have permission to return to school, and have written several essays this summer to fill out my degree requirements. But I know I won’t be going unless Lorcan does, too.

I miss him. I wonder what he’s doing. Whether he’s safe. If he’s sleeping with—

Nope. Not my business.I tried not to think about it but he was a burr clinging to the back of my brain. I couldn’t dislodge him.

This summer was supposed to be for forgetting. Unfortunately, the mere mention of his name was still enough to send my heart racing. There were moments when I would find myself staring into space, remembering the feeling of his skin on mine. Such a small touch.I feel it too.

He probably meant the throbbing bass was giving him a headache.

When I get back to Scotland, I’m making it my mission to sleep with the first guy who offers, even if it’s one of Bashir’s stoner friends. Get it over with. Find out what the fuss is all about.Choose,for once, instead of being pressured into accepting a decision made for me.

* * *

By early August, I’d identified thirty-seven books and one hundred and four manuscripts, some to be delivered to the Royals University Library archivist upon my return, and others to be painstakingly copied by hand before being shipped off to the school next Midwinter. A tiny collection, but enough to prove to the world that Auralia is a functioning society with its own legal structures, religion, culture, and language. The librarians will handle the accessibility question, so that anyone in the world can learn about our country, if they so wish.

I felt that this was a significant accomplishment for a woman less than two months past her nineteenth birthday, even if said young lady had recently destroyed her own bedroom with a pair of mechanical legs.

Two weeks before we were scheduled to return to Scotland, I started to reconcile myself to the idea that Lorcan wasn’t coming back, and that I might not be returning to school at all. The thought of being marooned here in Auralia until whatever mysterious business he’s occupied with is concluded had me stuck in a depressive spiral, not that I could talk to anyone about it. Saskaya isn’t what you’d call emotionally nurturing, and as close as I am with Cata, she’s even closer to my father.

My father had been called away from the throne room for a few moments earlier, so I took the opportunity to snoop through his papers.

A look at his unguarded Council reports revealed that mangled bodies had been left by the side of the road; travelers brutally murdered for a few dael. The number of attacks has been increasing.

No wonder my father won’t let me leave the castle, not even to visit Saskaya at the Sun Temple and see how she is faring with the Sentinels.

More worrisome were the reports of Skía infiltrations into our military. One spy was discovered and executed after a lengthy detainment in the Gaol. I briefly considered making good on my idea to tour the prison, but decided against it.

Whether or not to use torture is the kind of decision I will one day have to make, and I’m in no hurry to get started. Let my father deal with that, since he’s so inclined.

I heard a sound and covered the report with a ledger on taxation.

“Princess, you are wanted in the courtyard,” one of the guards informed me.

“Do you know what it concerns?” I asked, sweeping my skirt aside so as not to trip over them. The white caps of my Converse poked out. Oops. I’m not supposed to wear them outside my rooms.

“No, Your Highness.” The guard hesitated, with his gaze lowered to the floor in respect. “However, I did see the king with Raghnall of the Covari, immediately before your presence was requested.”

“Thank you.” Something to do with the Sentinels, then. I trailed him through long halls lined with portraits and thick red rugs, trying not to feel disappointed that Lorcan was still missing.

CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE

Out in the courtyard, a large crowd gathered. It’s hot and sunny. I sweated in my layers of jade green and violet spidersilk over ivory linen.

---