Page 47 of An Archer's Redemption

Now it was her turn to eye me. A long moment of silence passed.

I started to fear I’d gone too far when she spoke in a quiet voice. “My father always said the crown changes anyone who wears it. I watched how it changed him over the years. He seemed to always be debating something in his mind.” She walked to her cot and sat facing me. “When I was a little girl, he was so carefree, carrying me on his shoulders into the gardens, tossing me into the air before plopping me down on the back of a horse. He loved to ride with me sitting in front of him, his arms wrapped around my sides. I loved it, too. I would snuggle into his chest and watch the world pass by from the safety of his saddle. As I got older, he grew more serious. He . . . lost that playfulness.”

“Maybe you lost a bit of that as you got older, too? We all do.”

She nodded. “Maybe. I sat in many of his Council meetings and stood by the throne as he heard petitions and negotiated trade or whatever pressed. He loved being King, but the weight of the crown took its toll over time. I guess . . . I am scared it will do that to me, too.”

I stepped to my cot, sat, and leaned forward, taking her hands in mine. My eyes found hers. “Jess Vester, you are the strongest woman I know. You’ve lived through things that would’ve destroyed most other people, butyounever gave up. Of course the crown will change you. How could it not? But you have the power to choose how that change will occur, whether it’s positive or negative, whether joy or bitterness grows in your heart, whether or not you hold on to all the special things that make you, well, you.”

Jess’s eyes fell to our tightly clutched fingers.

“You think I am special?” a child’s voice asked.

“Very.” I smiled, squeezed her hands, then pulled back. “But you were right about us needing rest. If we’re going to return to face the Palace tomorrow, we both need to be at our best.”

A moment later, I was wrapped in my blanket, eyes closed, when Jess whispered into the night, “Thank you, Keelan.”

“Good night, Your Majesty,” I replied through the grin teasing my lips.

By some feat of magic, as the sun rose on the next morning, the torches in the cavern flared to life and brightened. I had forgotten that trick from our last visit to the cave and stared in wonder as the flames danced higher.

“I never knew magic could do so many amazing things,” Jess said from her cot. “I mean, Gifts are everywhere, but to make something like this cave, or those torches, orthatwine, it really is wondrous.”

“It’s definitely something,” I grunted as I rose and rummaged through my pack. “May I fix Her Majesty’s breakfast? We have dried meat and cheese or cheese and dried meat.”

She smiled and sat up, her head tilted upward. “Our royal pleasure commands cheese and meat, kind sir.”

I lifted two wrapped bundles, turned, and offered an exaggerated bow. “As you wish, Your Most Bedheaded Majesty.”

“Bedheaded?” Both her hands flew to her hair. “That is not even a word. And don’t look at my hair! I need that mirror to just be a mirror before you see me again.”

I laughed, a deep rumble that echoed off the rough cavern walls. “No need to fret, Majesty. Your humble servant will busy himself with preparations for our journey while you, well, do whatever it isyou royals do in that mirror.”

She tossed her pillow into my back and padded toward the mirror. “How dare you mock me! I am Queen!”

When I muttered, “Notmyqueen,” under my breath, another pillow slammed into my back, causing me to spill a bit of the magical wine I nearly had to my lips. “Hey!”

She giggled as she brushed the tangles out of her hair. Dittler, who’d remained near the cave’s entrance all night, clomped over to the table and nudged my shoulder.

“I know you’re hungry, boy. We’ll get you some breakfast when we’re at the Palace, okay?”

“You two seem to be getting along much better now,” Jess said, packing her brush away and smoothing out her dress. “I swear he just sent me an image of you feeding him some kind of fruit. I am fairly certain that image was his way of communicating affection.”

“You meanhunger. We’ve reached an agreement of sorts, but I wouldn’t call it affection,” I said, patting the massive stallion one last time before turning to face Jess.

I froze as my eyes widened.

“What? I did the best I could on short notice.”

I shook my head but struggled to speak.

Nothing had changed since we’d spent the last day and evening talking, but it felt like the first time I’d looked at her.Reallylooked at her.

She wore an elegant emerald gown with white lace around the neck and the ends of her sleeves. The green of the fabric shimmered in the torchlight and brought out the auburn tint in her rich brown hair. I’d never paid much attention to that red tint before. In fact, I’d nevernoticedher before. She was a girl I rescued, a girl seven years my junior, not unlike many other victims of crimes I’d helped back home.

But for some reason I couldn’t explain, the woman who stood before me in that moment was someone entirely new.

“No, no. You, um, did fine. I mean . . . you look fine . . . good . . . you look good,” I stammered, then ran my hand over my stubbly chin. “I’m an idiot. Ignore me.”

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