Two Worlds of Oblivion Page 5

  Maray wasn’t sure what to do with the situation. Jemin remained silent, forearms resting on his knees, fingers locked, messy caramel ponytail on the back of his head the perfect contrast to the blue of the walls, while she kept trying to figure out why he was still there.

  “Two weeks,” she finally said, unable to face his silence any longer.

  He nodded, sending strands of hair bouncing into his face.

  “How have you been?” she asked, trying to stick with how she would handle such a situation in the other world. What should be different about this situation here in Allinan? It was time for something to happen—or the talk. If she had to keep wondering what was going on behind those eyes, she might not have enough capacity for her training.

  “No one hurt you over there, right?” Jemin asked instead of answering her question. “No one approached you?”

  Maray shook her head. “Why?”

  “Scott had us patrolling the borders every waking second,” he said in a tone that from anybody else’s mouth would have sounded like complaining. From his, it was the sweet sound of concern shining through the cracks of his facade. Maray had seen it before.

  “I am sorry,” she said unthinking.

  “What are you sorry for, Maray?” He looked up at her, pulling rogue strands behind his ears as he sat up. “You did nothing wrong.”

  Maray almost suppressed a chuckle. The last time, she had been the one to use those words when she had told him he had done nothing wrong in kissing her. Her lips burned as they remembered the touch of his mouth on hers.

  “It’s not your fault they are after you,” he continued, oblivious to the heat that sizzled inside Maray. His eyebrows knitted together as his eyes searched the room. “It is I who brought you to Langley in the first place.”

  It dawned on Maray why he was behaving the way he did. “You are blaming yourself for this?” She couldn’t even tell what ‘this’ was exactly.

  Jemin’s gaze locked onto hers, and she knew she was right.

  “I should have never agreed to bring you back to Allinan in the first place. Your father and Langley might have taken care of Rhia all by themselves…”

  “And my mother?” she interrupted. “You saved her.”

  “I know,” was all he said, and he appeared embarrassed.

  Maray slid to the edge of her chair to reach over and touch Jemin’s hand. “Whatever you did, it helped save my mother. And—”

  “And?” he repeated, the fire in his eyes flaring bright.

  “And, this.” She leaned forward and took his hand into hers.

  A smile rushed over his face, the lighthearted one.

  “This,” he repeated and laid his free hand over hers, securing her fingers around his. With a light tug, he pulled her closer, leaning forward at the same time. “This—” He hovered an inch from her face, lips parting, his breath tickling her skin.

  Maray inhaled his scent; salt and dust and winter.

  “You have no idea how much I’m going to miss this.” Jemin’s voice was a velvet murmur, almost inaudible; and he touched his lips to hers so lightly it could have been a gust of hot air.

  Maray only half-heard what he had said, but she had heard enough to understand that it couldn’t mean anything good.

  “What do you mean, you ‘are going to miss this’?”

  Jemin held her gaze, the lightheartedness retreating back behind the facade of a version of him she had thought they’d outgrown.

  His sudden distance hurt. It wasn’t the type of pain that came with rejection but more a sense of frustration by his back and forth.

  “We need to look at the facts, Maray,” he started as if he was explaining to a negotiation partner.

  “Facts?” She forgot all attempts at diplomacy and fitting into her role as an Allinan royal as she sat back in her chair, ready to laugh at him so she wouldn’t cry. “One fact is that you kissed me a second ago.”

  Jemin’s lips twitched, not in the smiling way, and he nodded absently.

  “That’s a minor fact.” Jemin got to his feet and folded his arms across his chest, becoming the inaccessible statue he had been before that night he had first kissed her.

  “So, what facts are you referring to?” Maray put all of her effort into sounding upset, but her voice came out a little harsher than she’d wanted to hear.

  He turned to the window, pale winter light making his hair look like a halo. “You are royalty, Maray.” He said it as if that explained everything.

  “And?” She got to her feet and joined him at the window, placing her hand on his shoulder. The smooth feel of Thaotine exposed the edges of his shoulder-blade and the ropes of muscles that connected the shoulder with the neck. She could swear he shuddered for a brief moment before he slipped out from under her touch.

  “And I am who I am.” He glanced at her from the side, gaze boring into her eyes. “It doesn’t matter how I feel for you; it doesn’t change anything.”

  Maray had an idea where he was headed. He was a soldier, and she was the Princess of Allinan. “It doesn’t matter to me what our stations are as long as you stay who you are.” She took his hand, attempting to show him that she meant what she said.

  “You have no idea how much that means to me, Maray.” He gave her a twisted smile. “But they—” He gestured at the skyline they could see from her window, “—they care. Your people care. The nobles will expect you to pick a suitor from one of the highest ranks in Allinan, not Jemin Boyd, son of a traitor.”

  There it was: dark like a cloud in his bright eyes, the recognition shrouded everything that had been between them a minute ago, or ever.

  “That didn’t bother you two weeks ago.” Maray thought back on that short moment of sitting with him at Corey’s after they had rescued Laura. She had really thought there was more between them.

  “Two weeks ago, I was a fool.”

  His words stung like little daggers. She turned back to the window, observing the quiet gravel yard.

  “What changed?” she wanted to know.

  Just as he was about to answer, people appeared under the archway, one of them glancing up.

  So fast she couldn’t even scream, Jemin grabbed her by the arm— “Down!” —and pulled her to the floor with him as he dove away from the window.

  Her back hit the hard wood of the floor, Jemin’s weight crushing her as he landed on top of her.

  “Ouch.” Maray freed her arm from under her hip and rubbed the side of her head that had impacted on the floor.

  “I’m sorry,” Jemin whispered, face right above hers. “I couldn’t risk letting anyone see you.”

  Maray was still catching her breath. “Anyone see me? Or see us together?” she asked acidly, hiding how much his shape against her affected her ability to think coherently. Every muscle in his body was tensed as he propped himself up above her.

  “You,” Jemin clarified.

  “So you’re not just going to avoid me from now on?” She spoke her greatest fear and earned a surprised shaking of Jemin’s head.

  “Princess Laura has given me an assignment,” he reminded her, much to her disappointment. She had hoped that he’d want to be around her for her sake, not for her mother’s.

  “Yeah…” Maray slithered to the side out from under him and rolled to her feet. “Training,” she said with a lack of enthusiasm that should be recognizable way across the borders of Allinan.

  Jemin chuckled behind her.

  As she turned, he had gotten to his feet and was pulling a lace curtain in front of the window. “This should work,” he explained, eyes on the yard and the moving figures.

  “Who are they?” Maray asked, swallowing the sour taste of rejection and focusing on the maters at hand.

  “Nobles, advisors, men and women high up in military and political ranks.” He crinkled his nose. “They are coming to see Scott about the rumors.”

  “Rumors?”

  “You haven’t been around for two weeks—basically, yo
u haven’t been around all your life,” he corrected.

  Jemin

  “Two weeks ago, I was a fool.” Jemin heard his own words as if a stranger were speaking. It was hard enough to forbid himself to feel the way he did, but when Maray turned away from him as if he had hit her in the face with his words, he could hardly hold himself in place. His hands itched to grab her shoulder and turn her back toward him so he could at least read her features…

  “What changed?”

  Jemin went into meditation for a second. Could he spell it out for her? Would it be wise? To let her know how his heart had found a new rhythm ever since they had kissed—

  Voices in the distance broke into his dilemma, saving him for now; voices that carried through the yard, amplified by the archway, and penetrated the glass of the window in a petty attempt to disturb their moment, voices that belonged to people who shouldn’t see Maray, or it would be hard to keep rumors from spreading.

  He didn’t even think when he reached out and wound his fingers around her upper arm, pulling her to the floor roughly. “Down!” He felt her fragile shape hit the wood and, just in time, let go of her arm so he could catch himself and not smother her with the weight of his muscled body; a body which was ready to take notice of her curves under him and made him wish they had ended up in this position under different circumstances—

  “Ouch.” Maray tore him out of his daydream as she wriggled underneath him, pulling one hand up to her head and rubbing her ebony hair. It was spilled out on her shoulder and chest like an explosion of dark silk and made Jemin ache to lay his cheek on it.

  Instead, he restricted himself to just inhaling her scent before he propped himself up a little higher. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t risk letting anyone see you.”

  “Anyone see me? Or see us together?” Maray asked, out of breath and somewhat disgruntled at his apology. Every one of her breaths made him want to lower his body closer onto hers. It wasn’t just his ache for her nearness but that he could finally have his wish, if only for a moment, to just wrap himself around her and shield her from any danger.

  As Maray stared up at him, still expecting an answer, he focused and pondered her question for a moment. Was he scared anyone would see them together? As a guard, why wouldn’t he be at her side—in the shadows, just never truly beside her the way he’d like to be? “You.” He spoke carefully, hoping she’d understand and at the same time fearing she’d be able to interpret all of the emotions behind the syllable. His face had gone numb from suppressing any feelings that were attempting to break through. She couldn’t know.

  “So you’re not just going to avoid me from now on?”

  Why would she think that? He would never… He shook his head at her, unable to bite back how much this thought hurt him or how he had suffered these past two weeks without her. And in his mind, like an echo, Laura’s words came to his aid. She had asked him to help Maray by training her. And he needed that and only that. It was the best he could do—prepare her to defend herself. And whoever saw her out there would fear to cross her once he was done with his task. “Princess Laura has given me an assignment.”

  Maray again surprised him with a frown and glided out from under his body as if she was suddenly uncomfortable with the closeness, but the thumping vein at the side of her throat gave away that their chemistry was stronger than ever… Jemin couldn’t help but find it funny how satisfactory it was for him to know it was as difficult for her as it was for him. But the momentary amusement didn’t remain. The voices outside hadn’t disappeared, and as Maray straightened up, he pushed himself into a standing position and silently leaped back to the window, covering it with the flowery lace curtains which he had always thought were a superfluous accessory to the already pompous rooms in the palace, but suddenly were exactly right.

  “This should work.” He glanced down into the yard, trying to identify the people under the archway, but they had moved on, and their heads were no longer visible from Jemin’s angle.

  Maray stood with her eyes on the yard, just like his own, and seemingly recovered from the impact on the floor. “Who are they?” she asked and sounded almost… normal.

  Jemin peered through a crusade flower, thinking of Scott’s words that the rumors had already begun. Rumors the Queen had left court. People were getting nervous. “Nobles, advisors, men and women high up in military and political ranks.” They all wanted to see for themselves if it was true. And they wanted to secure their position at court with whoever was chosen to be Queen Rhia’s stand-in. He left out all of those details and cut his answer down to just one more sentence. “They are coming to see Scott about the rumors.” From the scared look on Maray’s face, he knew they were the wrong words.

  “Rumors?”

  Of course, she had no idea what had been going on here in Allinan. How could she? People were starting to notice that something was wrong. Even the ones who didn’t normally see the Queen in person. “You haven’t been around for two weeks,” Jemin said, his mind wandering back to the moment Maray and her parents had taken off to the other Vienna, on the other side of the borders of Allinan. She had no idea of how Allinan functioned, the chains of command, court protocol, the worship of the Allinan people for their queen—at least the ones who didn’t know Rhia’s real face. And it was nothing she could just pick up in a couple of days. It was a lifetime of lacking knowledge. “Basically, you haven’t been around all your life,” he corrected himself, and within him, something else resonated… ‘All my life,’ he wanted to say.

  Jemin was grateful for his ability to suppress any kind of emotion. Even if it was just until he got out of that room, it would be enough so he wouldn’t fall victim to his desires.

  What did it matter how he felt about Maray? Even if he told her, he would only make it worse for her. Scott had made that crystal-clear. A soldier has no place at the side of a royal except as a guard. He had asked about Ambassador Johnson and how it had been possible for Princess Laura to marry a commoner who wasn’t even from the same world. Scott had explained in detail about the wrath of Queen Rhia as she had heard about her daughter’s plans. Hardly anyone knew about their marriage. It was going to be a shock to most nobles. They didn’t like change, and this was the type of change that had already happened; manifested in the form of Maray Elise Cornay.

  He glimpsed at her dark-blue eyes; the same blue as the tapestry. Her pale skin was slightly flushed from the shock of him tearing her to the ground. He bit back a smile. She was a vision, even with ruffled hair and a frown on her face. He knew that it had been vanity to come here and check on her. He had seen in the ambassador’s chambers that she was fine. But something inside his heart wouldn’t stop pestering him, and so as not to feel guilty about it, he had pestered Heck to join him.

  Now that Heck had left him to his fate—the fate that he had exposed himself to willingly—it was almost impossible not to wrap her in his arms.

  “The rumors?” Maray called his attention, still waiting for his answer.

  He leaned against the windowsill and folded his arms across his chest. “The rumors that Princess Laura has returned with a surprise.”

  “Those are not rumors,” Maray said with unexpected humor, making his composure almost slip.

  “You’ll need to be careful, Maray,” he urged. “Half of the people will not trust you because you look like Rhia in her youth, and the other half will treat you as if you were Rhia.” He gave her a contemplative look. “You are not a blank page for those people. Everyone in Allinan will have an opinion on who you are or who you should be.” It hurt him when Maray’s lapis-lazuli eyes darkened, giving away how scared she was of that moment when she’d step out into the public, and there was nothing he could tell her that would console her.

  “Who I should be,” she repeated and turned away from him, cutting off his view of her delicate features. “Who do you think I should be?”

  He hadn’t expected this question. “I wouldn’t dream of telling you who yo
u should be,” he said truthfully.

  Maray lifted her hands before her as she sat back down in one of the blue chairs.

  “Should I be a warlock? Or a princess? You know I’d have two more years of school in my world—”

  “This is your world,” he interrupted her, emotions paving their way onto his tongue.

  “So who am I here?” she asked, frustration weighing down the melody of her voice. “A bird in a golden cage?”

  Jemin suppressed a smile. He could see that image clearly. A bird, a beautiful bird, locked in a golden cage.

  “You will figure things out,” he tried to reassure her, and it was useless attempting to pretend he didn’t care who she became in this world. And it was impossible to act as if he didn’t want to help her.

  “Will you help me?” she asked, a shining innocence in her voice that reminded him of the times he had dreamed of becoming personal guard to the royal family and given up on the thought due to his family’s history.

  “I will help you in any way I can,” he spoke before he could keep himself from it. There it was: an arrow, right into his heart, shot from Maray’s eyes as they melted at his words. Who was he to deny her anything? And who was he to make her life complicated through his even more complicated feelings? He had to remember his place. A soldier. Nothing more. No matter what the dark-haired image of beauty stirred inside of him. His duty was to the crown first, and that meant putting everything else behind. He held her gaze and added, “Without compromising your already difficult position.” Then, he turned around and headed for the closet at a pace that would look unbothered and natural to Maray, but every muscle in his body burned as he kept himself from running. Running from what was inevitably going to break through. And now that Laura had put him on Maray-duty, there was really no point in running, was there? Hope flickered as he vanished through the rows of clothes. Hope that he knew he would regret the next time he would burn in Maray’s presence. Before he opened the hidden door at the back of the closet, he stopped and stole one last glance of Maray, which should carry him through the night and coming day. Her eyes stared back at him, full of worry, a crease etched into her forehead that made her look older than she was, more like the queen she might one day become.