Page 4 of A Chill in the Flame
“What kind of name is that?” The princess coughed again, spitting sand and salt onto the beach.
“The kind that belongs to someone who just rescued you. What are you doing swimming naked in the middle of the night? I’ve borne witness to some terribly executed plans, but that has to be the stupidest idea I’ve ever seen. Unless, of course, you’re on some sort of suicide mission.”
Ophir looked at the waves. Her eyes unfocused as the same monstrous visions that had driven her to the sea returned. She saw her sister, the shapes of men, and the sticky pools of Caris’s spilled life. She hated herself for living in a world without her sister. She hated herself even more for being grateful her reckless attempt had failed. Seabirds’ cries signaled the first grays of dawn, jolting her back to the present.
Dwyn stiffened. “Oh, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I still wouldn’t have let you do it, but…”
Ophir narrowed her eyes, “I’m sorry—what were you doing in the ocean in the middle of the night?” She found some strength as she leveled her gaze. “There were no boats nearby. You’re asking a lot of questions for someone who doesn’t have a leg to stand on.”
Dwyn smiled. “I have two legs to stand on. Not a mermaid, remember? But unlike you, stranger, I have gifts for water.”
Ophir wanted to scowl but couldn’t quite bring herself to the expression.
“And you? Do you have a name, or should I just refer to you as the Naked Woman?”
“I’m Ophir,” she replied, throat still raw. She curled up a leg and lowered an arm to help cover her nudity. Other than the brown-gold hair that remained sea-slick against her shoulders and parts of her breasts, she remained utterly exposed.
Dwyn’s lips turned down in a frown, though her eyebrows quirked as if half of her face was amused. “That’s the name of the youngest princess.”
Ophir gave a staccato, humorless laugh.
Dwyn blinked. “You’re the youngest princess?”
Ophir’s stomach roiled. She was going to be sick. She spewed salt and bile onto the sand beside her, then wiped away the acidic spit with the back of her hand. “The only princess, now.”
Visions of the king and queen flashed before her. She heard her mother’s keening and her father’s tears. The loss of one child had shattered them. The loss of two might have finished the job. Her selfishness for robbing the kingdom of an heir was another in a long list of reasons fueling her self-loathing.
Ophir made her first weak attempt at standing. Sand clung painfully to every part of her. She fell forward on her knees and palms. Broken shells and tiny rocks bit into herflesh, each scrape and cut screaming from the salty burn of seawater. She couldn’t stay here, naked and vulnerable with some stranger. She tried again to move and failed once more.
“Say,” Dwyn chided softly. Her lower lip was in something of a pout as she eyed the princess. “Let me help you. I’ll get you back to the castle, Princess Ophir.”
She responded before thinking. “My friends call me Firi. At least, my sister did.”
Her stomach twisted again, this time with regret. What a stupid thing to say. She wasn’t sure why she’d responded at all. This stranger—Dwyn—wasn’t her friend, and she had no intentions of making any new ones. She certainly didn’t want to think of her sister.
Perhaps Dwyn understood why the statement gagged her. It didn’t take much sleuthing to piece together that Ophir had sought a watery grave over reality’s horrors.
But she’d lived, for better or for worse. As much as she hated to admit it to herself, she didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to be alive, either, but the terror she’d experienced in the final moments before Dwyn had rescued her sealed her fate. She was a survivor.
If she was going to continue to walk this cursed earth, then she didn’t want to do so under the lock and key of suspicion. She’d failed at dying—as she had with everything—and being caught would only make things infinitely worse.
“They’ll find me. I can’t explain this. No one can know. I don’t…” Ophir’s thoughts drifted hopelessly.
Dwyn’s eyes twinkled. “Then we’ll have to be sneaky, won’t we.”
Two
This was either a nightmare or dream, Ophir was certain. Shefelt disconnected from her body as she allowed the beautiful stranger to guide her forward. Dwyn wrapped a supporting arm around her as Ophir led them to a crevice in the cliff until they came to a halt in front of a sand-colored door.
“This leads to the castle?” Dwyn asked. She looked from side to side as if checking for prying eyes. “Any riff-raff could come in from the sea. That doesn’t seem very safe.”
“And what riff-raff we are,” Ophir responded with a sigh. “There are a few secret passageways left over from the royal family who reigned before my grandfather took the throne. I’m not sure that many know about this door.”
A hush pressed over them once they crossed the threshold into the passages. Ophir knew the maze-like halls well from a rebellious youth spent avoiding courtly responsibilities. They were forced to pause whenever they heard the early-morning sounds of waking servants and shuffling attendants to avoid detection. She had no idea how she’d explain herself, should they be spotted. She looked down at the gooseflesh covering her shivering form and scowled. She remained fully nude, dripping wet, and covered in sand. That would be hard enough to explain without the presence of the unfamiliar,soaked, dark-haired fae woman clad in slippery starlight.
Fortunately, years of delinquency lent themselves to successful sneaking. Relief washed over her the moment she slid her chamber’s iron lock into place. She frowned between Dwyn and the door, then put a chair in front of it for good measure.
Dwyn left soggy, sandy footprints on the stones and rugs of Ophir’s suite while exploring the princess’s room. She was still leaving wet fingerprints on an oil painting when Ophir abandoned the stranger to draw a bath. The scents of kelp and fish scales and rotten crabs were replaced with the gentle honeyed smell of her soaps. Eager to have the itchy salt washed from her body, she stepped into the still-too-hot tub and sank into the bubbles. She sucked in a lungful of air before disappearing beneath the surface.
