Ash wanders the street, wearing the baseball cap to obscure his identity. Even before he left, his parents had ensured he had more anonymity than princes of other countries generally do. Still, he keeps his face lowered as he walks the city streets. The crowds and busy traffic aid his attempts to blend in.
His abduction has been concealed. Even Quartz’s parents do not know the details of their son’s death. While this is another thing to add to the weight of his conscience, he is not ready for the limelight.
Only a few cars, mostly taxi drivers, travel on the road, but it is packed with pedestrians, bicycles, and other makeshift vehicles. It is easier to breathe out here than confined in a room with his father and brother, though the smell of garbage and human sweat mingle in the air. He finds himself relieved to be planning a trip to the north. Ash picks his way through the crowd until he comes to an open green space. There is little traffic here, and a well-established, if worn, trail follows the coastline with breathtaking views.
“If you want to blend in, might I recommend not wearing your mother’s cap?”
Ash smiles. He knows that voice. “Cypress.”
A giant of a woman with glossy black hair pulled back into a tight bun carries the air and look of a warrior princess. She is not a blood relation to him, but he considers her a sister. Doubly so by the relationship she has with his brother.
“I don’t have a chance of blending in now,” Ash teases as the broad, tall woman falls into step with him.
“Good to have you home.” Cypress’s voice betrays the warmth she feels toward him, even as her expression maintains the same stony indifference.
“I had expected to see you at the palace,” Ash says.
“Coal did not tell you then.”
“James,” Ash corrects her. “Tell me what?”
“James then. You look a great deal better than when I last saw you.”
“You mean I look better than when you dragged me out of a rotting basement littered with my dying captors? I don’t know if I ever thanked you for saving my life.”
“That tyrant would never have allowed them to kill you. More likely to torture you for the next fifty years.”
“So I am even more indebted.”
“Glad as I am to see you safe, the mission was a failure.”
Ash knows she feels the loss of Quartz nearly as much as he does himself, and takes it at least equally as personally. Cypress is not used to failure.
“You’ll have to tell me sometime how you found me.” It hurts that he cannot say us. Quartz had already been shot by the time Cypress arrived to decimate his captors.
“We ladies must be allowed our secrets,” she replies as they walk into a more wooded part of the trail. The smell of the budding trees reminds him of spring days as a child. His mother would bring him here with Coal and Cypress, and they would play for hours.
“I suppose, but a prince must be indulged from time to time. What hasn’t James told me about you two? I’m supposed to be calling you ‘your highness’ someday.”
Cypress had been given into the care of close family friends as a baby, a high-ranking military man, and his wife. When Cypress’s adopted mother died of cancer, Queen Azalea took on a more motherly role to her. Cypress continued to live with her adopted father, learning all his military ways, but she was at the palace any time she was not training. She has always been a sister to Ash. He has long known she meant something different to his brother.
“Your brother broke off our engagement.”
Ash stops as though he has hit a brick wall. If he is sure of anything, it is that James loves Cypress.
“When?” Ash asks.
“Nearly a year ago,” she says in a flat voice, not stopping in her stride. Ash catches up and they emerge from the wooded paths to an expansive view of Danbarrah’s coastline, curving in a southwesterly direction. The wind is more intense out here in the open. They both pause to look out over the water.
“He stopped answering my emails a year ago. What happened?” Ash asks.
“King Marcus,” Cypress says.
“What do you mean? James has always been as against King Marcus as either of us. He’s just more cautious.”
“King Marcus is too manipulative for that. Probably he found a threat James had to take seriously enough to make him nothing more than a puppet.”
Ash would rather believe James is still as focused as ever on fighting against King Marcus, of finding a way through that will not lead them to a war that would decimate their smaller, poorer country.
“James invited me to go north with him. Why?”
Cypress turns to look at him, her brows slightly raised on her strong-featured face. Ash takes no pleasure in catching her off guard.
“The north?” she says.
“Yeah. We’re leaving at the end of the month.”
“I see.” Cypress’s voice sounds far away. “I have to go.” Without another word Cypress turns around, taking long quick strides back the way they had come. She leaves Ash looking after her, amused and flabbergasted.