A Dove's Tale

Chapter 84

We set out again the next morning, but the doctor insisted on stopping after only two hours of travel. I didn't bother trying to argue with him, knowing that he wouldn't change his mind after what happened yesterday. Prince Nokto assured me that Obsidian, Benitoite, and Jade had already signed the treaty, so I didn't need to worry about endangering Rhodolite's alliance by delaying Belle's decision for a few days. He wouldn't say why Belle's decision had to wait until I got back to the palace, though, and I wondered if it was just so I could say goodbye to her. Clause Ninety-Nine of the Belle Covenant said she couldn't return to the palace or have any contact with the chosen king after she signed the King's Proclamation. It was the newest clause of the Belle Covenant, added by Sariel and Prince Jin to prevent the heartache caused by the last king's relationship with the Belle who chose him. As if adding a rule could prevent two people from falling in love.

Belle wasn't the issue this time. It was me.

She would leave and return to her previous life as a commoner who worked at a bookstore, and I would stay at the palace, trying to navigate my new life as Prince Chevalier's maid and lover. I half-hoped Belle wouldn't name him as king. She'd worked hard to spend roughly equal time with each prince so she could give due consideration to everybody, not just the faction leaders, but Prince Chevalier and Prince Leon hadn't reached their positions of authority over their brothers for nothing. The last I'd spoken with her, she'd narrowed her choices to the two faction leaders. If Prince Leon became king, there wouldn't be as much pressure for Prince Chevalier to marry well.

Although Prince Chevalier was the better choice, in my opinion. But I was more than a little biased.

"We just crossed out of Kloss territory into the palace district," Prince Yves said a few days later. He'd been acting as my tour guide since he met us at his estate, talking animatedly about the land and people under his jurisdiction. It was clear he took his responsibilities seriously, and he truly cared about the people in his charge, even though they greeted him with stiff, forced hospitality at each stop. Whispers of the half-Obsidianite prince followed him around, making my heart hurt for him. He'd been trying his entire life to win acceptance within Rhodolite, and if it weren't for Prince Nokto's murmured reassurance in my ear that it used to be worse, I would have thought he'd made no progress.

Then there were the whispers about the twins, muttered words that made them both stiffen and exchange glances. I didn't understand those, and I didn't want to ask when Prince Nokto was so clearly trying to ignore them and Prince Licht still wouldn't even look at me. It all made me wonder what kind of reception we would have received had Prince Chevalier not arranged everything for us. His correct family line clearly meant more to the nobility than his violent reputation.

Which meant either they didn't know about my relationship with him, or he'd threatened them into submission. Or both.

"When we leave the forest, we'll come out on the road that runs north of the village you lived in," Prince Yves continued. "It's less than half an hour to the palace once we cross the bridge."

The mention of the bridge brought to mind the sound of hooves pounding against wood, only a little louder than my heart pounding in my ears, and then the blow to the back of my head that plunged me into darkness. Suddenly, my heart was pounding out a frantic rhythm all over again.

"Miss Ivetta?" the doctor asked.

"Sorry," I said, giving him a forced smile. "I'm fine."

His furrowed brow didn't relax. I turned back to the window, watching the browns and grays of tree trunks passing us by, colored with shades of green leaves above, crawling vines throughout, and patches of moss below. The twittering of birds among the branches, the chatter of squirrels running up and down the trunks, the rustling of something crawling through the underbrush - and sunlight, trickling through the canopy, dappling everything with rays of warmth that said that miserable night was long in the past and everything was okay.