The Half-Class by Kayvion Lewis

Chapter Seventeen

“Are you alright?” Cass took my hands and guided me up. His jaw hardened as he looked over every inch of my body.

I nodded and turned my gaze back to the scene before us. The officer stared at Cass like he was trying to think of something right on the tip of his nose. In reality, perhaps it only took a second. But the revelation hit him in an instant. This officer must have been one of the new ones from Aurell. Maybe he’d seen Cass before, or he’d heard about his distinct features. Or maybe he just knew, from the way Cass was standing and the glare he was boring into the man now.

“Your highness.” The officer bowed his head. “What are you doing out in the streets?”

“Are you asking me questions?”

“No, Sir. I-I’m not—”

“Did he hurt you?” Cass turned back to me.

The officer’s face melted into something delightfully horrifying. I’d never had the tables turn like this before. I suddenly felt like I was the one with all the power.

“No,” I said. “But my friend…”

“I’m sorry,” the officer sputtered. “I didn’t know she was with you. I would have never—”

“What are you waiting for?” Cass looked at the man like he was a dunce. “Let him go. Now.”

“Yes, your highness.” The officer fumbled to find the keys tethered at his waist. They shook in his grasp as he scrambled to free Luke as quickly as possible. The shackles clattered to the ground.

Luke rubbed his wrists and stepped back from the officer. His attention went straight to us, but mainly to Cass.

“Sorry about that, Sir,” the officer said. I couldn’t tell if he was talking to Cass or Luke.

“What’s your name?” Cass asked.

“Petty Officer Enkins, your highness.” his voice cracked.

Cass watched him for a moment longer. A moment I hoped he remembered forever. It was certainly one I’d savor forever.

“Go away, Enkins,” Cass said.

The officer bowed his head again and swiped his shackled from the cobblestone ground. With not so much as a glance at Luke or me, he bolted down the street, disappearing into the crowds.

“Thank you.” I clasped my hands under my chin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“What happened?” Cass stroked his hands gently up my arms.

“I…we—” I bit my lip. turned back to Luke, drawing Cass’s gaze to him too. “A friend of mine forgot his papers.”

“Oh.” Cass raised a brow to Luke. “Do you need new ones?”

Luke rubbed his wrist and shook his head. “No.”

Oh, how I wished I could read their minds. But that might have made me even more anxious about this moment.

“Do you think you’ll be stopped again? On your journey to...wherever you’re going?” Cass asked.

“I’m not planning to be,” Luke said.

He had to say it. He knew he had to. It would be suspicious if he didn’t.

“Thank you. Luke nodded his head stiffly. “Your highness,” he added.

I tensed. He didn’t have to add that.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” Cass tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Both of you. Do you want to go home now? I don’t want you to worry about this happening again.”

“Yes, please.” I gave Luke one last look. “I’ll see you around, alright?”

He barely nodded, and Cass and I started down the cobblestone.

“Does that happen often?” Cass asked.

“I don’t go out often.”

“But when you do?” He furrowed his brow.

I squeezed the papers in my hands. “It’s not uncommon.”

Cass’s gaze stretched ahead of us. What was he thinking? Probably of how pathetic I looked just a moment ago. All my gratitude melted away. Why should I have needed saving at all? It wasn’t fair. We didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t fair that I had to carry around these papers. It wasn’t fair that his father was doing this to us.

His father was the king. That officer addressed him as your highness.

I cleared my throat. “Do people call you your highness often?”

Cass’s steps slowed.

I bit my lip. His mouth fell open, clearly uncertain what he should say.

“I—” His eyes darted between mine.

I returned to the pace we had been walking, and he took a second to catch up. “I was going to tell you,” he said. “But it seemed like an odd thing to just mention. Especially after we’d already started to become friends and I—” He sighed. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me anymore.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you anymore?” A breeze blew through a space between shops, nipping the edges of my hair.

“Well, because,” he lowered his voice. “Because of my father, and the law, and your-—”

“Class?”

Something shameful settled across his face. He didn’t have to finish.

I took a deep breath. “You told me it didn’t bother you.”

“It doesn’t,” he said quickly.

“Why should it bother me?”

We stopped walking altogether, near the end of West Main, and the pedestrians were dwindling. I should have been nervous, but I had the prince with me. That same powerfully free and delightful feeling from before boiled inside me. No one was going to stop me now that I was with Cass.

“If you don’t judge me for where I come from and for things I can’t control about myself, then I can’t judge you for the same. Doesn’t that sound fair?”

Cass stared awestruck down at me as if I’d just said the most surprising thing. Honestly, it surprised me as well.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said.

“Good. If we can agree on that.” I slipped my hand into his arm. “Then nothing’s changed. Not to me.”

I started us forward again, a short distance from the last of shops and townhouses, the barn waited all alone at the edge of the forest. I felt Cass’s soft eyes on me. “You know, every time I think something I say or do or don’t say is going to offend you, you spin it around and make me feel silly for ever worrying at all,” he said.

“I’m less offendable than you imagine. You have less to worry about than you think.”

His muscles shifted under my palm. “It feels like there’s nothing to worry about when I’m with you.” A twinge of guilt shot through me. If only he knew, he likely had very much to worry about. “What will we do tonight?” he asked. “Maybe your aunt will let us do all the baking for her customers. You know, I’ve been told I make wonderful strawberry turnovers.”

“Yes, delicious strawberry and egg-shell filled turnovers. Unfortunately, that’s not a patron favorite.”

“So, what then?” Cass tilted his head up to the dimming sky.

We teetered between afternoon and evening now. A blend of yellow and orange sunlight painted the city around us. My memory unexpectedly called back to the little ornament Brison and Richal had given me and the beautiful beam of red light darting from it.

I tugged on Cass’s arm. “I know where we can go.”

“Are you even trying to keep up?” I taunted Cass.

He reached the crest of the hill. I’d been one step ahead of him since we left the main trail. The riding skills he was displaying now paled in comparison to what I’d seen at the races, but perhaps he wasn’t as well adjusted to Shadow. That or he wasn’t accustomed to traversing trails like the twisty overgrown one we were on now. If you could even call it that. Fresh grass overshadowed most of the beaten path beneath us, and I mostly relied on memory to lead the way.

“I’m only letting you take the lead,” he said, stopping next to me.

“That’s what they all say.”

“They?”

“All the princes I bring out here.”

“And how many princes have you led into these woods with your charms?” He relaced his fingers over his reins.

“Oh, I don’t know.” I flicked my wrist. “At least a hundred, probably. That makes you lucky one hundred and one.” I smirked and pressed my heels into Butter’s sides, pushing the horse into motion again. My skirt whipped in the wind behind me. Thankfully, the dress I’d mindlessly chosen for my engagement party had a full, circular skirt with enough fabric that I didn’t need to hoist the hem up my thighs to ride. It appeared our impromptu ride was meant to be, just as it was fated that Kat’s usually stubborn horse, Shadow, didn’t immediately shun Cass, and we were able to set off without worry.

I led us down the hill, maneuvering around trees and bounding over roots and fallen branches. Cass lagged a bit behind, hesitating over a few large trunks and around low branches. A part of me was glad. He may have beaten me back at the races, but I could still outride him out in the real world.

The trees ahead of us thinned. I pulled back on Butter’s reins, and Cass did the same until we were both at a leisurely trot. We were here.

Newborn moonlight trickled in through the thinning trees ahead. But not just moonlight. A rainbow of light. Beams of blue, red, green, and every color in between sparkled before us. Cass’s emerald eyes stared straight ahead. He was entirely entranced, just as I’d hoped.

We rode forward into the rain of lights. Shards of stained glass of every shape and size dangled from the trees. A few colored lanterns dotted the branches too. They swung delicately through the air, casting beams of colored light every which way. Cass’s gaze never left the trees. He gaped at them, and I grinned just watching him.

We passed through the last of the trees into a small clearing, where a little pond basked in the rainbow moonlight. Opposite us, a knoll crept up into the forest, nestling a thin stream and a miniature waterfall that trickled down into the pool.

This was it, just as magical as I remembered. With a thousand colored lights dancing around us, Bexbury, no, all of Morra was far behind. We were in another world entirely, our own personal storybook.

“What do you think?” I slid off Butter to the perfect grass below. “Worth the ride?”

“I’ll admit, I was hesitant when we left the main trail,” Cass said, swinging down too. “But this, lovely, this is exceptional.”

“Then let this be your lesson to never doubt me again.”

He let out an enchanted breath and finally brought his eyes back to me. “I never will.”

We let Shadow and Butter graze at the water’s edge, then started a stroll of our own at the edge of the pool.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“This.” I spun around, letting my dress dance around me. “Is the impossible pond. That’s what everyone in town calls it.”

“Impossible?”

“Because of the water.” I knelt beside the pond and dipped my fingers into the water. A row of ripples waltzed through the lights. “The waterfall over there, it’s constantly pouring into the pond, yet the pool never grows. It never passes into the trees or even gets close. At first glance, it’s—"

“Impossible.” He knelt beside me and trailed a finger over the surface. I giggled as his fingers brushed over mine.

“In actuality, there’s a cavern at the very bottom of the pond,” I said. “It’s supposed to run under the forest floor and let out somewhere in the great lake or the river. No one knows for sure.”

“How does anyone know there’s a cavern at all?” He shook the water from his fingers. “Maybe the pond really is impossible.”

“They know because of the story, obviously.” I sat back in the grass, propping myself up on my palms and tucking my legs underneath me.

“A story? Now you must tell me.”

I bit back a smile. I knew Cass would appreciate this sort of thing. “Once—”

“Hold on.” He laid back in the grass and folded his hands under his head. “Alright, now I’m ready.”

He never ceased to surprise me. “Once upon a time, before even my Auntie was born, which I assume was a long time ago, an artist’s son and his brother came to swim here. They say the little brother dipped under the water and never came back up again. The older brother ran back to the city to get help, and when his father came back with his oldest son, he dove into the water to find his son. But he disappeared too. A few more people went in after them and discovered the cavern, but they never found the artist or his son.”

Cass’s playfulness faded. Perhaps, I should have warned him that this wasn’t exactly a light-hearted tale. I glanced back into the trees. “The remaining brother tied these panes of glass around the water to mark it. Maybe as a warning, or maybe to honor his brother and father. No one knows. He vanished into the water too before he could explain it.”

Cass sat up, frowning. “He went into the water too? To kill himself?”

“To be with his family again.”

Cass scoffed. “How foolish.”

Not the sentiment I expected.

“You don’t think it’s endearing? To die for the people you love?” I gestured over the lights, their infinite colors dancing and overlapping over the water. “That’s why this place is so beautiful. It’s a symbol of eternal devotion, even in death.”

“You don’t honor the people you love with death. The artist, he wouldn’t have wanted his only remaining son to die for him. Any good parent would have wanted him to live and be as happy as he could be without him. We honor the people we love by living our best life, even without them.”

That was an easy conclusion to draw for someone who hasn’t lost anyone. But Cass had lost someone. “Is that what you believe about your mother?”

He froze. Why did I ask that? There was a long draw of silence between us, but I didn’t retract the question. It was out, and I really wanted to know.

“It’s what she would have wanted,” he said softly. “She only ever wanted me to be happy. I try to be that. For her.”

I nodded and plucked at a few blades of grass. “Can I ask how she died?”

Cass tensed. Had anyone ever asked him that directly? I’m sure back in Aurell, their queen’s death must have been common knowledge. I’d snapped on people for asking me the same, but I wanted to know. Perhaps we could empathize with each other. So far, I’d felt as if I could talk about nearly anything with Cass. Why not this too?

“She was in an accident,” he said. “Traveling to a neighboring providence with my father. I was in Back Aurell. Their carriage tipped over on a steep hill. My father was unharmed, but my mother didn’t make it.” He cleared his throat. “He told me she fought for two days before she passed.”

My heart ached for him and for myself. Parents dying in a far-off city, leaving one morning and never returning. It was too familiar. “You didn’t get to be with her?”

“I didn’t even know she was gone until father and their troupe returned. Without her.”

“They didn’t bring her body back?”

He swallowed. “No. She was from the south country. Father sent her back there to be buried with her parents. He said she would have wanted that. I was only seven so, it was probably for the best that I didn’t see her. I can only imagine how she looked after the accident.”

One look, and I knew he had imagined. Just like I’d imagined what my parents’ last moments had been like, standing outside the palace walls with the rest of the class detesters. The king said they’d turned violent. But for all my imagination, I couldn’t picture my parents raiding those gates and attacking those officers. All I could imagine was the arrows piercing them. I had seen their bodies. I saw the holes in them. As awful as it was, and as unfair that that was my most vivid memory of them, I needed that. I’d needed to hug my parents one last time. I needed to cling to them until Auntie Jen pried me away. It was the only goodbye I’d ever have. I couldn’t imagine not having it.

“Unexpected death is twice as painful as the expected kind,” I said. “Although no loss is easy.”

He raked a hand through his thick hair. “And your parents? Can I ask how you lost them?”

Everything in me wanted to tell him the truth. I lost them in the incident. He must have already been thinking it. But I wanted to do more than tell him.

I wanted to ask if he was there that day. Was little Prince Cassian watching from a window while the class protesters tried to storm his palace? What were the chances that he saw them?

But I’d tell him nothing. I couldn’t. Wouldn’t the daughter of rebels be prone to rebellion herself?

“They drowned,” I said. “Their ship capsized on a journey back from the east. I got their bodies back but not them.” I cleared my throat. “I was five.”

I trembled. Somehow lying about this hurt more than keeping it in.

Cass laid his hand over mine. “I can’t imagine losing both parents. Not having a mother was hard enough.”

From what Cass had told me so far, it sounded like he had grown up without both parents. “So why grow up without one?” I asked. Thinking and talking about Cass’s childhood was so much easier, and learning more about him would likely be to my benefit. “Why didn’t your father remarry? There must have been more than a few willing candidates.”

He sighed. “He wasn’t interested. Honestly, if not for having me, I don’t think he would ever have gotten married. He’s just not the type.”

“Not the type to fall in love?”

“Not the type to be in love. Not in the traditional way.”

He twined his fingers in mine over the grass. A small thing, but with all the meaning in the world. “Did your mother love him?”

“I think so…in a way.” He squeezed my hand. “I remember how she used to trail the halls behind him. Wait for him for hours when he was gone. My father has many faults, but I never heard her mention a one. That in itself has to be some kind of love.”

Love? That sounded like fear to me.

I turned to the pond before us. We sat in silence, listening to the lull of the miniature waterfall gushing into the impossible pond. No wonder Cass had turned to books. What a poor example of love his parents had set. In the little time I’d had my parents, and through the plethora of stories I’d coaxed from Auntie Jen, my parents had set a standard that I feared I’d never rise to.

“My parents were entirely devoted to each other,” I said. Two matching fireflies glided across the water together, floating between the lights. “My aunt tells me that she’s never seen a deeper love. She says it was more than that. It was more than love.”

A faint smile crossed my face. “She tells me that my papa adored my mama—really, truly adored her. He told her she was beautiful every day. Even I remember that part. And my mama, she would kill for my papa. She’d go to hell and back just to see him smile.”

My vision blurred. I blinked back tears. “They were so different but so perfect for each other. One was passionate, and the other reserved. She was meticulous, and he was spontaneous.” I bit my lip. “One was dark and the other light. But they fit together so wonderfully. If I could be only half as lucky in love, then I’d have enough joy for two lifetimes.” I sniffled. “But I doubt my papa would want me to settle for that. Kat says when she was just six, my papa told her, ‘Don’t take anything less than bliss in marriage. If not, then what’s the point?’”

The ruby ring on my middle finger seemed to weigh heavier. Yes, what would be the point in that?

A tear fell down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away. “I suppose you were right about our parents, Cass. Mine only ever wanted me to be happy, just like your mother. But being happy these days is hard. Sometimes I feel like no path is going to lead me to a joyful life.”

I rolled my lips and did my best to act like I wasn’t on the verge of sobbing. Why had I said any of that? None of it mattered. I could never tell Cass about the life lurking before me. The one I was more and more sure would strip all my joy away. Why couldn’t I have smiled and said nothing?

“Someone told me a little while ago,” Cass said, “that I should have more faith. Perhaps you need to have some more faith in your future. Circumstances are always changing, sometimes for the better. You should have faith that a new path will emerge.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Don’t think about that. Only think about now. Make the best of this moment. If you do that forever, then eventually that will add up to a lifetime of joy, right?”

A tiny smile slipped onto my face, forcing its way through my tears. Be happy in this moment and be happy forever. He made it sound so simple, so simple that I couldn’t counter him. Somehow, he’d made the impossible the easiest thing in the world.

Cass had made me smile. He’d made me happy within this brief moment. Maybe this was a start to that lifetime he was talking about.

“Cass,” I wiped my eyes. “I think you’re the wisest person I know.”

“You don’t know very many people, do you?”

I rolled my eyes. “With friends like you, do I need to?”

“Only friends?” His eyes dropped to my lips. Perfect stillness washed over me, as light and vivid as the lights dancing around us. I found myself genuinely smiling. I felt...happy.

“No,” I said. “Not friends at all.”

I closed my eyes, and our lips met. I pulled Cass’s body into mine, clinging to him like I’d never done to anyone before. I wanted this moment to last forever. This pristine, peaceful moment where everything was possible at the impossible pond.

Where I could be happy.