Page 69 of Feathered Thief

Kazik silently watched as the angry foxes were set loose in the pocket world he’d frequently played in with Geoffroi. Maybe some of his cousins would someday regret their choices and be willing to humble themselves. He hoped they might.

Helena moved closer and squeezed his hand. “None of this is your fault or your mother’s. They all knew the risks and made their own choices. I’m so very thankful for you, Prince Kazimierz.”

Early the next morning, while Helena walked with Papa Hrabik in the formal gardens, he gazed up at Castle Valga’s towers, his eyes wistful. “So, this was your childhood home. My girl is a true princess. But I always knew that.”

“Papa!” Helena tugged his sleeve until he looked into her eyes. “With you and Mama Hrabikova, I never felt unloved or unwanted. I’m overjoyed to have my dearojciecback, but you are and will always be mypapa. You are both heroes to me.”

“You have a young hero as well,” Papa said with a warm smile. “I believe he will be a devoted husband to you, my Lenka.”

Helena couldn’t help smiling. “All those years, he was in my dreams. I could never remember the dreams in the mornings, but they were stored here”—she patted her chest—“in my heart. Now, as I remember more of my childhood, I love him even more.”

“He is a good man who honors and respects you. I see his shame and frustration in being part of such a family. But he is not responsible for their choices, only his own, which from all I hear are mainly noble. My ancestry includes a good many rogues, I fear.”

He dropped his voice to a near-whisper. “In my youth, I poached plums from His Majesty’s orchard—King Gustik’s father was king then.” Papa laid his forefinger over his lips, and his twitch of a brow made her laugh. “My papa found me outand tanned my hide. I’ve never had a taste for stealing since. Or plums, come to think on it.”

Moments later, Kazik approached on an intersecting path, closely followed by Geoffroi, who appeared glum. “She’ll warm to me. You’ll see.”

Kazik caught Helena’s eye and winked. “Never take a girl for granted,” he advised the horse, who snorted. “It would do you good to settle down with a fine mare like her and start a family, but Iga’s standards are sky high. She’s no ordinary horse.”

Geoffroi approached Helena. “You’re a girl. Why doesn’t she like me? Does she think I’m too old? Maybe I’ve lost my edge.” Geoffroi heaved a deep hay-scented sigh in her ear.

“Be a good friend,” Helena said, “as in, treat her with respect, and maybe she’ll warm up to you, but she has a mind and will of her own. Maybe she prefers the clean-cut look to all that flowing hair . . . or maybe she wants a stallion who doesn’t expect every filly to adore him.”

Geoffroi seemed to freeze. The very concept ofnotbeing irresistible apparently blew his mind.

Chuckling, Helena left the golden horse to process her words while she ran into Kazik’s open arms. His lips tickled her ear as he murmured, “I dreamed of you too.”

“You heard me talking with Papa?”

He nodded. “I didn’t intend to eavesdrop, but that part of your conversation reached me. Was it your magic? Or mine? I sometimes can’t tell anymore.”

She nodded back, holding his warm gaze. “I can’t tell either. And I believe we’ve often shared our dreams.”

Kazik then turned to Papa, extending his right hand. “PanHrabik, I must thank you for taking care of Helena. All those years, I somehow knew that wherever she was, she was safe.”

Papa gripped his hand. “Mama Hrabik and I believed she came to us as both a gift from above and a commission to fulfill.”

Kazik nodded. “Then, well done.”

“Well, well,” Papa huffed a bit, smiling. “Now, you two go ahead and talk your sweet nonsense.”

As their chaperone, Papa always gave them plenty of space to speak privately while they caught up on the five years they’d lost. “I think you’re a more powerful mage than you know,” Helena insisted. “Geoffroi told me your mother is asahira. She is always so pretty and quiet and kind and . . . well, nothing like I would imagine a great enchantress to look or behave.”

“She’s a beautiful person. And yet, my father . . .” He sighed. “Mama and I never spoke of his flaws. We simply worked around them . . . aroundhim. Which, Mama now admits, was a cowardly way to deal with a serious matter. Even as a child I felt estranged from him and his relatives. They never felt likemyrelatives.” He gave her a sneaky glance. “Except when it came to draughts. On the checkerboard, I’m a ruthless military dictator.”

“As long as you keep it on the checkerboard, we’re good,” Helena quipped.

He laughed, but again, thinking of his family sobered him quickly. “Now that you know, are you sure you want to marry a man from such a background?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” She rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, claiming his hand. “I see no resemblance between you and your father other than your handsome appearance. Your lovely mother raised you to be kind, honest, courageous, and considerate, and I can see your solid choices and priorities.”

“Thank you for that,” he said.

“And, Kazik, none of us come from perfect families. My father is a good man who loves me, but he was a stressed and often grouchy father who made little time to spend with his only child. I barely remember my mother. Her oldnianiaraised me, and you must remember how proud and self-centered I was. And so fearful. And then, five years ago, I was transplantedinto a completely different life, language, and culture. In other words, I’m a mess too! Are you sure you want to marry a woman with so many flaws?”

“Yes, absolutely,” he answered with a grin, then pulled her into his arms for a kiss.

Until Papa Hrabik turned a chuckle into a cough. “Well, well, would you look at the sun! Must be about time for breakfast . . .”

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