Zoe Reed - Breaking Legacies

The fire had died during the night, and the sharpening bite of the air outside was piercing through the room so that my ears had begun to tingle. Though Ava had her face buried in Albus’s fur, I wouldn’t wait for her to complain of the cold, so I slipped out of the heavy covers, careful not to stir her or the dog. I put on my boots for warmth and knelt at the dead coals, resurrecting the ashes with fresh logs and tinder. Afterward, I gathered the sleeping furs I’d laid out the night before, rolled them back up, and then tied them to the saddle. By the time I was finished, I noticed Ava had shifted, and her eyes were following me across the room.

“I tried not to wake you,” I told her while I tested the latch on the windows, making sure the wind wouldn’t push them open.

Ava sat up, dropping her head back against the headboard. “I woke at your absence.”

Her arms rose high above her, stretching as she yawned, and her wide mouth and sunken eyes and disheveled hair created such an uncouth look for a princess that I couldn’t help but smile just a little. She still looked beautiful, but in a delightfully graceless way. I was about to ask how her wrist was, but then she yawned again, and finished the action with a tired sigh.

“Are you accustomed to sleeping in?” I asked, doing little to mask the tension in my voice because of the storm, and by it, the unintended implication that she was spoiled.

“Kiena,” Ava said with a smirk, all sarcasm even if she was still waking up, “if you think princesses have the luxury of sleeping until midday, then I’m afraid you are terribly mistaken.”

“I wouldn’t know what princesses have the luxury of,” I told her, moving back to the saddle to grab the antiseptic. I carried it over to the bed, and sat down at Ava’s side to motion for her hand.

“Study, practicing my studies, studying some more.” She gave me her arm so I could remove the bandage from her wrist. “It’s rather tiresome, really.”

I poured a small amount of antiseptic into my hand so it wouldn’t spill on the bed, and massaged it over her wounds. “If I’m honest, Ava, it sounds rather simple.” She didn’t have to worry about eating every day, or providing food for anyone else, or what would happen if she got sick. She didn’t have to worry about a lot of things.

I could feel her eyes on me as I worked in the last of the liquid. “I’ve sounded overindulged,” she realized.

However, my immediate worry wasn’t that she’d given me the wrong impression. I’d been too tense to take in her playfulness, and I’d likely been offensive in doing so. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, putting her hand on mine to make me look at her. “You’ve spoken your mind, and I quite prefer it that way.” But when I finally did look at her, her brow softened with concern. “You’re troubled.”

“No.” I removed my hand from hers so I could rebind the linen around her wrist. It wouldn’t do for her to see exactly how troubled I was. I was supposed to be protecting her, or returning her to her father. Either way, I couldn’t seem vulnerable. Only, I knew she was watching me, waiting for more of a response. So I added, “It’s just the storm.”

“What storm?”

“The one that’ll be here in a few hours.” Finished with the bandage and reluctant to discuss it more, I asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Well,” she answered, and pressed a grateful kiss to my cheek. “Thank you.”

“Albus,” I prompted, and when he picked up his tired head to look at me, I reached across Ava to rub some antiseptic into the wound on his muzzle. He started pulling back halfway through, so when I finished I gave his snout a teasing nudge. “Go back to sleep, you lump.” He dropped his head inelegantly.

“May I?” Ava asked, holding out a cupped hand.

I wasn’t sure exactly why she wanted some of the antiseptic, but I tipped the decanter over her palm and spilled a few drops into it. Before doing anything with it, she reached up with her other hand, setting the backs of her fingers against my chin to angle it away, exposing that small cut on my neck. She dipped her fingertip into the liquid I’d given, raising it to paint a careful stroke over the knick.

Though my chin was turned up, I could glance sideways just enough to see her out of the corner of one eye. It was hardly a wound that needed looking after, but she was being so careful about it. Every touch was bare, like she was afraid of hurting me, and she was diligent about making sure every drop of the fluid was fully absorbed, as though she wasn’t sure she trusted the antiseptic’s efficiency. She seemed mesmerized by the task, and in turn I was mesmerized by her intense focus. So entranced by her tenderness that I’d completely forgotten about the storm, and I’d begun to relax. But all too soon she’d rubbed it all in, and her finger left my neck in a long, slow graze.

“Better?” she asked, a concerned crease between her eyebrows.

It hadn’t hurt in the first place—I’d nearly forgotten it was there—but I nodded gratefully. “Aye. Thank you, Little Will-o’.”

“Pleasure,” she said with a smile, making sure to meet my eyes with her own.

And she didn’t look away. She held my gaze, and though she no longer had her hands on me, I was still so entranced that I couldn’t break my stare. She had the most gorgeous sapphire eyes I’d ever see a thousand lifetimes over. They were big and round, and their deep blue glimmered like a sea of gems. And they were gentle like her touch, so full of thought and emotion and wit, appearing altogether incapable of any semblance of a glare. It felt like an entire minute before my eyes wandered to her mouth. To her full, soft lips, and I found myself wondering what I could do to earn another kiss on the cheek. Or maybe I could…

A gust of wind slammed into the shutters, creating a bang so loud that I nearly fell off the side of the bed. It immediately reminded me of the storm, and at the same time I realized what I’d been about to consider while looking at Ava, and I felt my shoulders and back go rigid. I stood, stiffly making my way back to the saddle so I could return the decanter to the bag.

“I should make sure Brande is settled before the storm rolls in,” I said, and though Ava had opened her mouth to say something, I grabbed my coat and left before she could.

Don’t let her bribe you with kisses, I reminded myself as I paced out into the gusting wind, crossing the empty distance to the stables. Three days and I was already vulnerable to bribery—and for two of those she hadn’t even been human! Was Ava doing it on purpose? She teased, and smirked, and made me blush for sport, but to what end? If she didn’t trust me, she could’ve snuck away in the night, any night, but she’d stayed, knowing my errand. If it was protection she wanted, if that’s why she stayed… I’d promised to hear her out long before I’d even met her. She needn’t make a game of earning my affection.

“Hey, old boy,” I greeted my horse, and when he extended his head over the gate, I pressed my forehead to his. “You’re awfully calm about this storm coming,” I told him, patting the side of his jaw. “How about you teach me the trick?” I strode back to the entrance of the stables to grab the stiff brush, and then carried it to Brande. “I think I might be in trouble with this girl,” I told him as I hopped over the gate and began to run the brush down the length of him. “Charming, isn’t she?” In his usual way, Brande huffed his end of conversation. “She’s almost perfect.”

With the next huff, Brande whipped his tail, cutting it against the edges of my ear.

“Oy! Alright, I said almost .” I flicked him in the flank for slapping me. “It’s her only flaw, isn’t it? That she’s royal. Her father’s the reason we haven’t got a copper for food.” I strode around to the other side of Brande. “And why there ain’t food even if we had a copper. And why Hodge’s boy got conscripted and killed. And why Mother’s scared next time the soldiers come around they’ll think Nilson is old enough for a war job. And why old man Nickles got thrown in the prison at Guelder on suspicion of being Ronan.” I stopped brushing and dropped my arm to my side thoughtfully. “Ava’s half Ronan, isn’t she?” I asked, and then added, “lot of peace her parents’ marriage brokered. Bloody useless.”