***

 

Antorans from all over came to express their sorrow at the loss of Freis. Everyone, it seemed, understood the deep bond between Andric and his wolves, and they hated to see their Prince in pain. The one good thing it did was open Andric's eyes to the fact that his people truly did love and care about him. At each expression of heartfelt sympathy, he returned his thanks and spoke to the person individually. When they left, I saw newfound respect and honor on their faces.

I wondered if Andric knew how much he strengthened his relationship with his people, but it was obvious he was just as taken by the effort they made to see him. Though I could tell he wanted to put what had happened to Freis behind him, he made a great effort to take time out for every person who came, and also asked them their concerns about the upcoming move.

It took most of his time, leaving us alone as the winter wound down.

“Is there anything we can do to make their leaving any easier?” Kaerdra asked one day as we dawdled in the breakfast room as a group, unable to find interest in any of the activities of the castle.

“I don't think so,” Trevin replied.

We had practiced with them that morning out in the courtyard like always, but the atmosphere was growing more somber as the winter drew to a close. It was as if everyone knew the inevitable was coming, but no one wanted to talk about it.

“Yeah,” Landis said. He put his hand on the glass of one of the windows and studied the print he left in the morning frost. “They're leaving their homes, occupations, and everything they know. How do you prepare a kingdom for that?”

“They're going to places where they don't even know they'll be welcome,” Brynna said. “That would be hard.”

“It doesn't have to be,” Tisha said thoughtfully. She reached up to draw a beak and legs on Landis' hand print, turning it into a bird.

“How so?” Nyssa asked from the couch.

“Well,” Tisha shrugged. “We know where they'll be going. Maybe if they knew there were places welcome to them, they'd feel better about going there?”

Kaerdra moved to sit on the arm of the couch next to her. “But how do we get our parents to accept strangers into their countries. They're scared enough about Antorans as it is.”

“We just have to make it easier for them,” I said suddenly, brightening up. The ideas came quickly as the spark Tisha started caught on. “Everyone's afraid of what they don't know, right? So we'll tell them what to expect; that way, they'll be less likely to reject the Antorans.”

“Yeah,” Trevin put in. “And maybe we can see how many people each country is able to take.”

“And they can start building houses and stuff so that the Antorans have a place to stay when they get there,” Kenyen said with growing excitement. “How would it be if we could tell them they all have places to stay already?”

“Where do we start?” Landis asked.

“Ayd can send out the hawks today,” Nyssa said, happy for an excuse to go see him. She blushed when she realized we all knew what she was thinking. “Well, he can,” she concluded sheepishly.

“Alright then, let's get started!” Tisha said.

I went to the door and asked Kimber to bring plenty of quills and paper. She grinned at the look of excitement on my face and ran to get the supplies herself instead of sending someone else.

By the time we finished, there were letters from each of us to our parents, as well as a group letter we wrote together and copied to send to each country so they had the exact same information about the Antorans. We kept it simple, knowing that if we could get everyone on the same page, it would be well worth the effort.

It was hard to keep the secret from Andric, but I managed as well as I could. He knew something was up, but he was busy enough not to ask, and by the time we met on the rooftop at night, we were too tired to do more than hold hands and watch the stars. He was happy for some peace and quiet, as were the wolves who laid at our feet and kept our toes warm. I was grateful for every moment near him because I didn't know how much longer we would be together.

When the reply to our letters arrived a few days later, we opened them with trepidation. Inside, we found mixed responses to our suggestions. Tisha's father was open to the idea of new citizens, but worried about the reception they would receive from his people. Kenyen and Danyen said that their father was interested in the idea only because he knew the Antorans were warriors and would add to his soldiers in case of war, to which we all laughed because there hadn't been a war in more than a decade.

Trevin and Kaerdra's parents were more reserved, telling them that there was not enough information to make a decision. The three groups against the idea were my father and Landis', who were completely firm in the opinion that the Antorans should stay on their own side of the mountains regardless of their condition, and Brynna's father, who was still furious that we had been kidnapped from his castle. Nyssa's father would band with Brynna's if it came down to it.

We realized we had a lot more persuading to do and got to work writing replies to each of our parents’ concerns. The others helped Landis and I the best they could, but we both knew it was going to be a hard argument, especially since my parents still spoke to me like I was young and inexperienced.

When Landis read my letter, he bristled. “They don't give you any credit for what you've done here.”

“I haven't told them much,” I admitted. At everyone's stares, I blushed in embarrassment. “What was I supposed to tell them? That I've been training the other girls to wield swords when my father was completely against me using one of my own, that we barely survived a brush with Breizans on our way here and another one in which a mountain lion was nearly successful in squashing me flat, and that I'm in love with the Antoran Prince, the one person my father hates most in the whole world?”

Their expressions turned sympathetic when I said the last sentence. Several of the boys exchanged glances, but I could tell they already knew. Kaerdra touched my shoulder and I sighed, “It's alright; it'll just be that much harder. At the very least, we might have to ask the other countries to accept more Antorans for the time being.”

“Don't worry, Kit, we'll help you,” Tisha said confidently. “Maybe we can get our parents to talk to yours. It might help them accept the whole Antoran thing.”

I turned to Landis. “Do you think your parents will let up?”

He shrugged, his expression doubtful. “It makes me wonder how much they were actually involved in the state the Antorans are in,” he said quietly.

I nodded in agreement.

“Well,” Nyssa said, grabbing a quill. “We have work to do, so we'd better get started.”

We didn't go to bed until late that night planning for the worst but hoping for a positive response from our parents. We concluded that our last-ditch effort would be to tell them that as their Crown Princes and Princesses, they owed it to us to trust that we would never put our people in danger.

While we waited for the return letters, we tried to put it out of our minds by working harder around the city. There were houses to fix, walls to repair, food to distribute, and wood to cut from the remaining trees to keep everyone warm during the last days of cold weather. A fire started in one house and caught to the houses to either side, and it took an effort by the whole city to get the families settled elsewhere. I heard one of the husbands comment that at least they had less belongings to cart south, but his wife shushed him with heartache plain on her face. It made me more grateful for what we were doing to get them secure places to stay.

When the next letters arrived, our efforts were rewarded. All of the parents were tentatively on board except Landis' and mine. Tisha's father and Trevin and Kaerdra's surprised us by saying they were already making plans for building temporary housing and they were setting up supplies to get the newcomers off on a good foot. Kenyen and Danyen said their parents were asking citizens to make room in their houses until new ones could be built.

To all of our surprise, Brynna and Nyssa's parents got together for a conference and agreed that if they didn't listen to their children, it would cause more trouble than it was worth. They agreed to be open to their daughters' suggestions as long as the safety of the kingdom was always in their minds.

“Well,” I said to Landis with a shrug after handing him my letter. “Looks like we have some work to do.”

He nodded in agreement, his expression slightly deflated. “What do you do when they don't believe in you enough to trust you?”

I shook my head. “I'm not sure; help the others, I guess.”

He brightened slightly. “At least there's that.”

We agreed that we would keep trying, but didn't get our hopes up from the tone of the last letters. It seemed that our parents had also gotten together, but they came out with a different conclusion. They were fiercely against allowing any Antorans to cross their borders, and threatened to make an example of those who did. When Father mentioned that I wasn't experienced enough to ask him to make such a change, I refused the tears of frustration and hurt and turned my attention towards helping to answer the other parents’ concerns.

Finally, we had enough answers and preparations completed to announce our intentions to the Antorans. We waited until the citizen dinner about ten days after Freis was killed. Andric sat quietly at the table, but we had been expecting his silence; counting on it, in fact. It gave me the time I needed to steel my nerves.

Finally, toward the end of the main course, I rose to my feet. At first, no one noticed, but Kenyen tapped politely on his glass to get their attention. I forced myself to stay standing when the tables fell quiet and all eyes turned expectantly to me. The atmosphere at dinner had been quieter than usual and the meetings more solemn since Andric's wolf was killed; the coming of spring and their imminent departure loomed in everyone’s minds. They looked at me patiently, but without much emotion.

“As you know,” I began; my voice wavered slightly and I hesitated. I questioned our decision to have me be the spokesperson, but the other Crowns had insisted, saying they wouldn’t have come up with the idea if I hadn’t been so accepting of the Antorans in the first place. I looked down at the Crowns' upturned, encouraging faces, then glanced at Andric. He watched me quietly with his brows drawn together. I took a deep breath and continued in a stronger tone, “We have enjoyed the pleasure of spending our time in Antor this winter, and appreciate all that we have shared with you.”

“Thanks for saving my life,” Bown yelled out. Many of the Antorans laughed.

I grinned despite my nerves. “Yes, and all the near-death experiences.”

They laughed again, and I felt them warming to me.

My smile faded as I continued earnestly, “You've been through so much more than any other group of people I have ever known, yet you continue to help each other keep going, to lift your neighbor up when things get rough. It's because of your spirit of love and devotion to each other that we decided we had to do something about your trek from your homes to our lands where your reception was to be hostile at the very least.”

I glanced down at Andric again; he was looking out at his people, judging their reaction to my words. “We've been in contact with our families since we arrived here, and decided it was time to put that contact to good use.”

I motioned for the other Crowns to stand up so I wasn't the only one taking the credit for the work that we had done. Trevin caught my encouraging nod and smiled at the crowd of listening Antorans. “Our parents, the royal Kings and Queens of Denbria below the mountains, have agreed to welcome you into our countries with open arms.”

He nudged Tisha so that she could take part in the miracle she had sparked. She smiled with tears in her eyes. “As we speak, houses are being prepared for you so that when you arrive, you have somewhere to call home.”

A cheer, louder than we had expected, went up in a roar from the Antorans. Tears slid down cheeks and husbands hugged wives, giving view to the fears and worries they had kept locked away for so long, troubles that were now eased. They would not be turned away; they would be welcomed.

Cries of thanks and blessings were called out to us and I heard our names praised. I sat down, my heart heavy at the thought that at least two countries would be off-limits to these wonderful people. Someone grabbed my hand; I looked over to see Andric staring at me.

“Did you do this?” he asked; his eyes were bright and wet with tears that threatened to spill over.

I shook my head. “Tisha started it, but everyone's been working on it for over a week now.” I faltered. “There're two countries where Antorans won't be welcome, though.”

From my dark expression, Andric guessed it. “Zalen?”

I nodded. “And Faer. Landis has been working at it as hard as I have, but our fathers won't budge.”

He squeezed my hand. “It doesn't matter.” His voice was so soft that I could barely hear it above the clamor in the room even though we were only a seat apart. “I owe you everything, all of you.”

I shook my head. “We owe you.”

“Yes,” Landis said as he sat down on the Prince's other side. “We've learned more this winter than you probably imagine.”

Kaerdra took her seat between Andric and I. Everyone beamed with the joy that they were able to share. They told Landis and I that we should join in as well, that we had worked as hard as the rest and deserved to celebrate.

“All that matters is that my people have somewhere to go,” Andric said in a voice tight with emotion. He rose to his feet and held up a glass of pumpkin milk sweetened with honey. “To the Crown Princes and Princesses of Denbria!”

“To the Crown Princes and Princesses of Denbria,” the Antorans repeated in a cheer that echoed off the walls.