Page 78 of Falling Princess

My chest tightened. It would be so easy to cross the scant distance between us and kiss him. Take his hand and press my lips to his palm. I can’t. I am already crossing lines that shouldn’t be crossed, given the peculiar nature of our relationship. I have to keep my feelings under control.

Lorcan broke the deadlock. “It’s late, Highness.”

I ducked my chin, feeling guilty and mixed-up. When I get back to school, I need to find a distraction in the form of a boyfriend. It doesn’t have to be anything serious. I don’t want serious, and Lorcan is the opposite of casual. He is not an option. If I keep reminding myself of this fact it might eventually sink in.

He makes it so easy to like him, now that I’ve stopped despising him on principle.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

In the morning, I toured the local mill and listened attentively to the village leader’s explanation of the types of grains grown here. We visited a spidersilk farm. I peered at the arachnids whose bodies were as big as my hand, and counting their legs, the size of my entire head. They’re gentle giants though. No venom. They eat insects and small birds. Hummingbirds, in the wild, or golden bees.

On the third day, we began our trek up the mountainside to the Sky Shrine. We left the horses with a small homestead high in the foothills, and carried packs. There’s a road accessible by coach, but it’s a longer distance, and after my time-wasting, we wouldn’t make it back before our departure for Scotland. So, we went the harder, steeper way, on foot.

I scrambled after my appointed knight, who is apparently part mountain goat. By late morning, we reached the snowfield, which this time of year is covered with hardy wildflowers instead of a meter of snow. I collected samples as a way to postpone the inevitable.

“We should hurry if we hope to return before nightfall,” Lorcan said.

“You needn’t come with me.” To be honest, I wish he didn’t have to witness this humiliating ritual.

If he doesn’t accompany me, however, there’s a strong possibility I won’t survive.

“How am I to guard you from down here in a meadow?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “What if you stumble into a dragon’s nest?”

I offered him a weak smile at the joke, reminded of my clubbing attempt last summer.

“Was it Skía?” I asked.

“In Beijing? No. Nothing to do with us.” He shook his head, hair flopping. “A crank with a vendetta against the club, according to official reports.”

I think I believe him, but the guilt stayed with me anyways. I know full well that official reports often skirt the edges of truth.

We climbed. Our breath formed clouds. Air became thin; my lungs burned for oxygen. Trees dwindled and shrank, soon replaced by hard-packed snow. It never melts on top of Mount Astra, not even in late summer. By mid-afternoon we arrived at the entrance to the shrine.

It was an awkward business, shimmying out of my traveling clothes and into the white ceremonial gown I packed for this visit. Cold mountain air nipped at my bare skin. The gold amulets and necklace chilled my arms and neck. It will get worse before it gets better, so I gritted my teeth and strapped on leather sandals that prevent my wet feet from sticking to the icy steps on my way out. Lorcan kept his back to me while I dressed.

His gaze was steady and serious when I came out from behind the rock. “You’ll freeze in that, Highness.”

“I know.”

He stood at the entrance to the narrow passageway leading into the shrine. Behind him, spikes of ice pierced the sky. This is one danger he cannot protect me from. I could see how much he disliked it. There’s nothing either of us can do about it.

“I won’t be long. I never am,” I told him, trying to reassure and instead sounding resigned.

“There will be a fire ready for you, Princess.”

How? There isn’t any fuel to make one.

Every time I come here, I freeze. My faith isn’t strong enough to warm the water, as my faith is nonexistent. It wasn’t, my first time, though. At ten years old, fresh from the loss of my mother, I desperately wanted to do well.

Even then, it wasn’t enough—Iwas never enough.

The only warm sensation in my body is the scalding heat of tears that don’t fall. My toes, nose, and fingers were already painfully cold.

I felt the weight of his gaze on my back all the way down the passageway.

The white stone effigy of the Goddess Auralia rose high against the wall of ice behind her. I have to admit it’s a stunning sight, catching the rays of the afternoon sun, blindingly bright on the surface of the pool, dancing over the giant statue until she almost appears to be alive. I can almost see tendrils of hair blowing in the breeze. Her face isn’t so dissimilar to mine. Same nose. Same chin. Same brow.

It comforts me to imagine Auralia with my mother’s face. Here, I need all the comfort I can get.

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