Page 13 of Enamored
Now, in the stairwell, the princess pushed herself away from the wall. “Since your identity is clear, I shall be on my way.”
“My identity?”
“Yes, that you are an uncouth boar.” Straightening her shoulders, she slipped past me and started up the stairs.
I shifted the scroll in my hand. Rasmus would be expecting me by now. I couldn’t delay any longer. Even so, I watched her for several steps. “Should you not have attendants, Your Highness?”
She paused, her back rigid. “How long have you been back in Vordinberg, Maxim?”
I rapidly calculated the passing of time. “Eighteen hours and twenty-three minutes.” I hoped she would appreciate my preciseness, reminiscent of the way we’d always measured time.
“Of that eighteen hours and twenty-three minutes, you have spent less than one minute with me. Such an ambitious amount of time does not qualify you to speak as my Sage.” With that, she continued on her way, her footsteps light, almost as if she was barefoot.
Was she barefoot?
She disappeared around the spiral before I could ascertain the state of her feet. But I suddenly didn’t have to see to know what she was doing. She’d maintained our tradition these many years of sneaking up to this particular turret with an unobstructed view of the eastern horizon. We’d done so at dawn on clear mornings to calculate the exact time of sunrise, always removing our shoes so no one would hear us. Somehow, the queen had figured out our adventure—at least, I’d assumed that was why the princess’s faithful guard Halvard had watched us from a distance and kept himself hidden.
Impetuously, I unlaced my boots, extinguished my candle, and followed the princess. When I reached the top, she was already outside on the top of the turret, the door wide open and letting in the chilled autumn air.
Though dawn illuminated her outline, I couldn’t see her expression. And I wanted more than anything to see the wonder in her face and eyes as she glimpsed the first arc of the rising sun.
I took a deep breath and started through the door only to feel the bite of a knife in my back. A glimpse into the shadows of the tower behind me told me Elinor wasn’t alone after all.
“Nary one disturbs the princess if he values his life.” The gruff whisper belonged to Halvard, her burly, gray-haired guard. Though I couldn’t see his face, I glimpsed the long beard he’d always had.
“’Tis I, Maxim.” I held myself motionless. “You remember me, do you not?”
“Aye.” Halvard didn’t remove his knife. “But the princess told me not to let you disturb her.”
She’d expected me to follow her? And she’d instructed Halvard not to allow me onto the turret? The news should have discouraged me, but for a reason I couldn’t explain, I was all the more interested in finding a way to see her again.
“Very well.” I let my gaze linger upon her one last moment before I turned from the guard and started down, my steps light, my pulse tapping with eagerness.
Perhaps following Rasmus’s order to spend time with Elinor wouldn’t be as much of a chore as I’d believed. In fact, I might even enjoy it.
The trouble was getting her to enjoy it too.
Chapter
5
Elinor
After resolving tokeep my distance from Maxim, why did I have to meet him in the stairwell, of all places?
I watched the horizon, the pale light creeping up from beyond the distant fields. I added several numbers to the list on the open page of my leather-bound journal, then focused on the angle of the sun against the earth.
Normally I found beauty and peace in my early morning venture to watch the sunrise. But today, only turmoil swirled through me, and my thoughts kept returning to my encounter with Maxim.
I was surprised he’d spoken to me at all. After he’d ignored me thus far, I’d only expected more of his coldness not less. I’d believed he would pass by with a quick nod but nothing more.
Perhaps in seeing me alone, he felt more freedom to speak and interact with me. Perhaps he knew how rude he would be if he said nothing at all. Or perhaps without anyone else around to judge his interaction, he was more comfortable acknowledging the relationship we once had.
“Stop making excuses for him.” My frustrated whisper rose into the air only to be snatched away by the breeze.
I’d made excuses for Maxim for years, telling myself there were valid reasons why he’d left Vordinberg and the royal residence without saying goodbye. And surely he had valid excuses for why he’d never written to me—likely, he’d been too busy with his traveling and studying and the many adventures he was having.
Making excuses was easier than admitting he’d never cared enough about me.
