Sky of Wind by Emily Deady

Chapter 12

Sol could feel his own heart pumping so aggressively in his chest he wondered if it was trying to escape his body. “No,” he growled. “No.”

“I think it’s a resourceful solution,” Aizel said. “Unusual, yes, but crazy enough it just might work.”

“No.” Sol could force no other word through his paralyzed lips.

The soldiers in the room below followed the Councilor out of the main door, slowly emptying the great hall.

“She is the best option you have. Will you not even consider her?” Aizel pressed.

“No.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the princess below, standing on the dais, her back to her family. Sol couldn’t see her face.

“You’re beginning to sound like a whining child,” Aizel said.

Sol did not deign to offer her a reply. He needed a moment to think before opening his mouth again.

“I can understand why you are shocked, but Sol.” Aizel moved closer to him. “You have to do this. For Istroya. For our families.”

Sol shook his head. “It would never work.”

“It’s the only option.” Aizel’s voice was desperate. “Robin said you can’t get to the fort by land, and now even the sea is closed to you.”

“Then I’ll walk down the shoreline.”

“That would take weeks. There’re cliffs.”

“I’ll climb them.”

“She literally offered you a direct route to the fort, and access to inside it. Your life is not the only one at stake!”

Sol felt a fire in his head. “Everything I’ve done has been a sacrifice for my family, my people. You cannot accuse me of avoiding hardship. She’s a Quotidian princess. At best she’ll be an additional responsibility, and at worst, a distraction.”

Aizel sighed. “Her family is in danger, too. She’s opened a door for you. Don’t slam it closed without consideration.”

Aizel brushed past him and left the dark side room.

Sol clenched his fists, angry at his body for betraying him. When he’d first heard the princess’s plan, his heart soared. Perhaps it was hope, perhaps it was anticipation, perhaps it was longing. The feeling, however, was definitely a weakness.

“I guess I should go find him,” Meena’s voice came from the great hall. “At least before half the castle congratulates him on a wedding he knows nothing about.”

Sol backed away from the hidden window, shrinking into the darkness behind him.

He could not talk to her until he’d masked away the foreign feelings in his mind and body.

His knees bumped into the chair behind him. She didn’t know he was here, and she would be unlikely to search for him in this particular room.

He sat down. The cool stone wall of the castle was directly behind him, and he leaned his head back against it.

He would find a way. He had never backed down from a challenge and he would push against the obstacles in his path until he’d overcome them or been destroyed by them. He didn’t have any other option. His life had no purpose.

His peaceful solitude was interrupted a few moments later when the door quietly opened.

Sol sat up instantly.

A beam of light illuminated the very person he was trying to avoid.

“Sol!” Meena said loudly. Clearly she was just as surprised. She glanced toward the window to the great hall, then back at him. “What are you doing here?” she hissed.

Sol didn’t respond as the use of this particular room seemed obvious.

She approached the window, peering out into the hall below. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough.”

She winced.

A quiet voice from the hall below filtered up to them. “You don’t intend to let her follow through with this, right?”

Sol stood and approached the window to see who was speaking. It appeared to be the crown prince.

He looked down at the princess standing quite close to him. She didn’t look like a princess. Not that he’d ever met a princess before. Her hair was long, dark, and straight. He didn’t remember the color of her eyes, and he couldn’t see them from the angle she was facing. He did remember the way her eyes crinkled in laughter over Celesta’s head, though.

She seemed like a normal woman. Just one who was loud enough to talk over an entire room full of hostile soldiers.

“Why are you here?” Sol asked.

“Shhhh.” She kept her eyes on her family below.

“You do realize she just stalled a continental war.” That was Aden, he and Erich were the only family members who remained seated.

“We can’t let her sail to Falqri with some Majis we’ve only just met.” Onric paced across the dais.

“I dislike your flippant use of the word Majis. It sounds as though you are insulting my wife.” Erich had his leg over one arm of his wide chair.

“I don’t think we can stop her,” Queen Cara declared. “She stepped into a critical moment, placing herself in danger, and came up with a solution to buy us time. Really, she did better than any of us.”

Sol looked back at the princess. He had not expected her mother to be the first to support her.

Meena had a small smile on her face.

Sol thought she deserved it. Her action had been brave and resourceful.

“This is not the proper place for this discussion.” King Frederich stepped from the dais.

The rest of the family followed him, their voices covered by the sound of their footsteps.

“You came here to listen to what your family said of you?” Sol asked.

Meena shrugged, turning to him. “So you heard everything?”

Sol nodded.

“What do you think?” she asked. She bit her lower lip as she looked up at him.

Sol felt his throat tighten. He knew from experience that if he opened his mouth, ‘no’ was the only word he’d be capable of saying. And looking into the anxious eyes of the woman in front of him, he could not bring himself to immediately deny her request.

“I know this is sudden,” she said, filling the silence. She began to inhale through her nose. She kept inhaling until her entire body stretched taller. “And . . . I know it is uncomfortable and awkward.” She spoke more quickly as she went on. “It’s not an actual proposal. Well, I mean, I am proposing that we wed, but it would only be a counterfeit marriage. We would have a big wedding so everyone—especially the councilor—believed it, and we would pretend to be madly in love.” She looked at her hands.

Sol’s frown deepened. His racing heart had calmed of its own accord and he wanted to believe it was because he’d willed it. Surely he was not so weak that her words were having any sort of effect on him.

The princess inhaled again, turning her face away from him. “It would be in name only, of course. For the sake of your people and mine.”

Sol crossed his arms, instinctively leaning away, spacing his feet just a small bit further apart so his center of balance was lower. Not that he expected her to physically attack him, he just felt more in control when he was prepared for whatever might come at him. He had to refuse this. He didn’t want to refuse it. He didn’t want to agree to it.

She was too beautiful to be marred by his callousness.

He pressed his foot against the floor below, trying to find an outlet for his tensed up energy. Her beauty had nothing to do with it.

She was spoiled.

Naive.

Immature.

Loud.

“This is absolutely not something you have to do,” the princess continued. “It was just the only way I could think to get you inside the fortress to complete your mission as soon as possible. I did tell the councilor that we would be spending our wedding trip at the fort. That made him believe that Iseldis still trusts—or more like fears—Chendas, but it also gives you a chance to have full access to the fort. If you were my husband, no one would know it wasn’t real, and you could be shown anything you asked to see. But you already knew that because you heard it the first time I said it. I’m talking too much.”

He noticed her hands were moving rapidly, or at least her fingers were. Each thumb was rapidly touching the fingertips of their respective hands in quick succession, bouncing back and forth in each direction. The knowledge that she was nervous loosened the tension in his chest.

Brown. Her eyes were a soft, dark brown. He could see them now in the dim light of the window to the great hall.

He would not give in to this weakness. He knew better than to follow something as fleeting as a feeling. He clenched his jaw, squeezing his teeth together in anger at his body for giving in to such weakness.

“I’m sorry,” she broke the moment of silence, dropping her eyes to the ground. “It was a foolish suggestion. We’ll tell the Council the wedding has been called off and find another way to get you into the fort.”

She leaned away as she walked around him toward the door.

Sol turned after her. If he let her leave, he would never find the courage to ask her to reconsider.

“It is not a foolish suggestion,” he finally blurted out.

The door was halfway open. She stopped.

“It is a resourceful solution. A genius idea. Better than anyone’s,” Sol tried to remember what others had said about Meena’s plan. “It is our best option.”

She closed the door and turned around. He could not see her face in the darkness.

“Is that a yes, then?” she whispered.

“Yes,” Sol replied.

The tension in his body dissolved into lightness.