The Dragon’s Daughter and the Winter Mage by Jeffe Kennedy
~ 26 ~
“Oh, Isyn,” Gen breathed, unable to believe her eyes. Not only had he been restored to health, standing on two strong legs again, thanks to Stella’s magic—but somehow he’d also regained his youth, looking no older than he must have when he fell into the Winter Isles. This was the gift from Moranu, she realized. The goddess had answered her prayer that Isyn be given the life that had been stolen from him.
He reached her in two strides, sheathing the Silversteel sword in a smooth movement, taking her carefully by the arms. No, of course he wouldn’t kiss or embrace her, because she’d given up his love. The sacrifice had been worth it. Seeing him whole again, his whole life ahead of him—it was absolutely worth it. So why was she crying?
“What’s wrong, Briar Rose?” he asked. “Are you hurt?”
Yes, but not in the way he meant. “I’m fine,” she assured him. “Look at you. You’re young again.”
“I’m… what?” He looked stunned.
“I said he didn’t look old,” Rhy complained.
“Stella’s healing must’ve helped?” Lena ventured.
Stella stepped closer, reaching up to lay a hand on Isyn’s cheek, turning his head to face her. “This wasn’t my work. But you’re all correct. Your body is not quite thirty years old.”
Isyn’s face lit with wonder. “I feel good,” he ventured.
“Maybe it’s an effect of traveling back through the rift,” Lena mused. “Which would be useful if any of us get stuck again in one where time moves faster.”
But Gen knew that wasn’t it. This was the work of Moranu. She couldn’t seem to stop crying. She didn’t know why. She’d given him up, knowing the price and willing to pay it… but, oh, how it sliced at her that he didn’t love her anymore. If he ever truly had.
“Briar Rose,” Isyn said softly, turning his attention back to her. Lifting his hands to cup her face, he brushed away her tears with his thumbs. “Why the tears? You know you can talk to me.”
She caught her breath on a sob. She couldn’t talk to him, not about this. If she told him about her bargain with the goddess, he’d pretend to love her anyway. He was just that noble, and he’d feel obligated to stay with her, feeling that he owed her. Tempting as it was to trap him that way, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. No, she’d let him go, as she’d promised Moranu she would, just as she’d let dragon form go. “I’m just so happy,” she said, willing her face to show him. She was happy for him, so it wasn’t a lie. “It’s all right.”
He frowned, searching her face, clearly unconvinced, and she recalled that he’d commented before that she said that when she wasn’t convinced but was determined to please him. “No,” he said slowly. “It’s not all right. Something is very wrong.”
“We can talk about it later,” she pleaded. “When everyone isn’t listening in. Please… I need you to let go of me. Don’t touch me.”
His expression froze, clear green eyes icing over. Releasing her, he stepped back and bowed formally. “As my lady wishes.”
“Prince Isyn?” a voice called, filled with incredulous hope, and Isyn spun away from her, hand going to his sword hilt.
The rest of the group, who’d drawn discreetly back while she and Isyn talked, formed an instinctive defensive ring around him. “Who is that, Isyn?” Astar asked on a growl.
“I don’t… Commander Siebold?” Isyn’s voice rose with his astonishment.
A big man strode out of the mist, grinning ear to ear, a heavy broadsword swinging casually from one hand before he sheathed it on his back. He went right up to Isyn, their group all tensing, then dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “I should say, King Isyn,” the man corrected in a tone of reverence. He raised his head. “We’ve been waiting for you for a long time, Your Highness. Welcome home.”
“But how didyou manage to create a portal to bring us directly to the Isles of Remus?” Lena asked Stella yet again. They were trailing in a short parade behind Isyn, who was in the midst of a hugely enthusiastic group of people, more arriving by the moment as they made their way to what would apparently be Isyn’s palace. Gen only caught a glimpse of his ivory hair and tall form on occasion as they crowded around, all wanting to talk to and touch him.
“I’m trying to think of a way to explain,” Stella replied patiently. “I thought about the problem a lot while we were sailing, how each of us seems to influence which alter-realm we end up in. It’s a kind of … picturing where I want to go.”
“But you’d never been here before,” Lena argued, “so how did you picture it?”
“I just… did.” Stella sighed heavily. “I can’t put it into words.”
Jak, on her other side from Lena, Stella’s arm firmly looped through his, gave Lena a warning look. Stella was exhausted—especially since she’d insisted on healing Astar enough for him to walk on his own, even though Zeph, Rhy, and Gen had all volunteered to become a horse to carry him. Astar had, surprisingly, allowed the healing instead, reminding them all that the people of the Isles were largely unfamiliar with shapeshifters, and it was better to remain discreet. He and Zeph followed immediately behind Isyn’s group, Astar having graciously yielded to local royalty, meaning Isyn, and Gen walked beside Rhy, bringing up the rear.
Isyn had beckoned her forward, but she’d waved him off, and he’d been immediately distracted by the many questions his people were hurling at him. She had to make it clear to him that she’d make no demands on his heart. A clean break so he could live the life he was meant to.
“‘Briar Rose,’ huh?” Rhy commented.
Gen blushed, cursing shapeshifter hearing. “It’s from a mossback tale,” she told him. “A term of affection.”
“Oh, I figured out that much,” Rhy replied cheerfully, sliding her a mischievous look. “What I can’t figure out is why you’re not up there with him.”
“I don’t think I could fit through the mob.” As the forest track from the shoreline widened into a proper road, well-maintained and smooth, people had begun to line the sides of it, making their procession feel more formal and more festive all the time. They were shouting Isyn’s name and cheering, throwing flower petals.
“You saved his life,” Rhy pointed out remorselessly. “He’s only here because you talked us all into rescuing him. He could show a little gratitude.”
“I don’t want his gratitude,” she ground out, perilously close to tears again.
Rhy cocked his head, studying her. “I misspoke. He could demonstrate his love for you by acknowledging you in front of his people.”
There was no getting around this very awkward conversation. “I’m giving him up,” she whispered, willing the others not to overhear, though she’d no doubt have to tell every one of them exactly this. “Look at him. He’s king of the Isles of Remus, and I’m not fit to be a queen.”
Rhy snorted. “And Zeph is? She’s going to be high queen.
“That’s different.”
“Why?” he demanded. “Thrones and crowns are mossback things. They aren’t what matters.”
“They do matter. And I made such a big deal about Zeph leaving Astar alone so he could do his duty and make his marriage of state. I’d be a hypocrite if I changed my mind now.”
“Ah, well.” Rhy sighed and thrust his hands in his pockets, tipping his head back to contemplate the sky. “It seems we all end up eating our own words and convictions at some point. The question is: Do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?”
She didn’t tell him that she’d traded her chance for happiness so that Isyn could have his. “This is Isyn’s destiny, what he fought for so hard, for so long to gain.”
“If you love this man, you should be fighting for him. True love, as you’ve said so often, doesn’t happen often. It’s a rare and precious gift—and you shouldn’t take it for granted.”
Lena glanced over her shoulder, her expression opaque, making it clear she could hear every word. She dropped back to Gen’s other side. Wonderful.
“What’s going on? Why does Gen have to fight for Isyn? They’re in love.”
“As you’re well aware, Salena,” Rhy replied sardonically, “love doesn’t last forever.”
“It can if it’s not treated carelessly,” she snapped with considerable heat as Rhy winced. She slipped her hand into Gen’s. “Why do you say you have to give him up, honey?”
“I won’t force him to be with me,” Gen answered, giving Rhy a narrow glare. “Sometimes a love affair is meant to last only a short time. It can be a product of the intensity of the moment. I’ll savor what we had, but that was a very particular set of circumstances, and Isyn needs to move on now. I won’t be so selfish as to be forever running after him because of something we once had.”
“Ouch,” Rhy breathed, and Gen immediately felt bad.
She looped her arm through his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be harsh.”
“It’s a fair point,” Rhy allowed.
“Is it, though?” Lena asked, surprising them both. She wasn’t looking at them, gaze fixed firmly in the distance. “It seems to me that you should talk to him. Give Isyn the opportunity to tell you what he wants, instead of you deciding for both of you.”
“What if he won’t talk to her, though?” Rhy asked. For once he didn’t sound angry or demanding. His eyes were on Lena, and he sounded like he genuinely didn’t know the answer and was beseeching her for an answer.
Lena slowly turned her head and met his gaze. “Then she needs to listen.”
Gen sighed internally, knowing they weren’t talking about her and Isyn at all. The last thing she was going to do was anything that might impede Isyn breaking free of her and the past that had claimed him for far too long.
