Aurora spent the next few days by Phillip’s side, worried if she left, all her efforts would have been in vain. She didn’t want him to die. Despite what she’d said about not being his subject, she wished she was. She wanted more than anything to be like any other Belaen, protected by the crown. But they’d never been able to protect her or many of their people, and soon she’d pay the price.
Each time Phillip mumbled in his sleep, she shot up from her place on the floor beside the bed, but he didn’t wake. The only time he opened his eyes was when she forced tea or broth into him.
She hadn’t meant the tea would truly help him heal, but it was a trick she’d learned from her grandmother. She’d placed bitter herbs in it to sell the effect, but in truth, it was normal tea. The healing part was in the hope it provided. When she was young, her grandmother would give her the tea, telling her it would make her well, giving her a belief that something could help.
She didn’t know why she’d tried to do the same with the crown prince of Bela. Now, as she watched him, it seemed a silly act from a silly girl.
She leaned up on her knees, examining his flushed cheeks and sweat-soaked hair. Each morning, she lingered longer than necessary in her pallet on the floor, not wanting to rise, worried she’d find him dead. And each morning, relief flooded her.
After forcing some broth into him, she couldn’t stand to be in that room any longer. Waiting threatened to clog the breath in her throat. Waiting for what? For the prince to die? For Aurora herself to fall into the deep slumber awaiting her?
Sixteen days. That was how much time she had left of this existence. It wasn’t enough time.
She yanked open the front door, walking into the bright sun that broke through the trees. It warmed her face, and she tilted her head back. She would miss the sun.
Lea stood at her food bucket, and Aurora laughed. “Waiting for me, are you?”
She took the bucket to the side of the cottage where she kept the grain for Lea and filled it. When she rounded the house again, she froze.
La Dame stood next to Lea, rubbing her between the eyes as if they were old friends. “I quite like this mule. I think I’ll take her when you can no longer care for her.”
Aurora clenched her jaw. “She’s already spoken for, I’m afraid.”
“Dear.” La Dame cocked her head. “I don’t believe you’re afraid of anything. Sad, maybe. But fear? There isn’t an ounce of that in you. It’s why you and I get along so well.”
Aurora set the bucket of grain down. “Fear only exists when you have something that can be taken away from you. There is nothing I will leave behind.”
La Dame’s smile stretched across her face. “And the prince?”
She swallowed. “What about the prince?”
“Is he afraid?”
“Why would he be afraid?”
“Because he’s dying.”
Aurora stumbled when she stepped back, but La Dame grabbed her arm to keep her upright. Aurora ripped her arm away. “He’s not going to die.”
La Dame tapped a finger against her chin. “No, he won’t. I’m here to save him.”
Shaking her head, Aurora positioned herself between La Dame and the front door. “No. You won’t use your healing magic on him.”
She stared at the dark queen, recalling everything she knew about her. It was true. La Dame had the power to heal – just like all Draconians. It was how she’d saved Aurora’s mother. But what was her true motivation? Why would she offer to save the prince of Bela?
Long before Aurora lived, La Dame took control of Dracon from her own father, killing him for the magic he possessed.
“Aurora, dear, do you want him to die? That is so unlike you, but I can’t say I don’t like this side of you.”
Aurora narrowed her eyes. Since the first day she met La Dame when she was a child, she refused to be intimidated. She wouldn’t fear the sorceress as the rest of the Six Kingdoms did. She wouldn’t give the dark queen what she wanted.
All laughter drained from La Dame’s face. “Let me pass, Aurora.”
“No.”
“If I don’t go in there, the boy dies.”
“I know what the price is for your help and I won’t let him pay it.”
La Dame brought her hand up and with a flick of one finger, she threw Aurora to the side as if she were no more than a doll.
Aurora grunted as she hit the ground and rolled back to her feet. By the time the ringing in her ears ceased, La Dame was already inside. She ran in after her to find Phillip more alert than he’d been in days.
His wide eyes stared at La Dame in apprehension. He feared her because he did have something to lose. If she ended him, he’d leave behind a life worth living.
His chest rose and fell frantically as his breath came out in gasps.
“You’re dying, young prince.” La Dame bent over him. “I can help you.”
“No!” Aurora’s cry had Phillip snapping his eyes to hers. “You can’t.”
La Dame didn’t turn. “Ignore her, young man. Tell me, do you wish to live?”
All he could manage was a nod.
“In Bela, you know little of the magic I possess. You’ve heard stories, I’m sure. I can heal you. Would you like that?”
He nodded.
Aurora rushed forward, shoving La Dame out of the way. “You don’t want to do this.”
His eyes scanned her face, the only part of him he could move. “Don’t want.” He sucked in a breath. “Die.”
She reached forward to place a palm against his cheek. “You might still get better. I won’t stop trying to help you, but Phillip, nothing La Dame does comes without a cost. She’s going to heal you now, but demand something unimaginable later.” A tear slid down her cheek. “You have to believe me. You have to trust me. You don’t want to live with the consequences of her aid.”
Through all of this, La Dame hung back. She took pleasure in people succumbing to her curses—like Aurora’s father. He’d allowed his wife to be healed, not knowing it would curse Aurora to a shortened life.
She wouldn’t let Phillip go through that. The guilt had destroyed her father until she no longer recognized him. It eventually killed him.
Aurora’s tears fell freely, and she leaned forward to rest her forehead against Phillips chest. “Please. Don’t do it to yourself.”
A hand brushed her hair, and she lifted her eyes to peer into Phillips. His lips formed words she couldn’t hear, but knew all the same. Trust. You.
“I need an answer, Phillip.” La Dame set a hand on Aurora’s shoulder and pulled her away. “Do you want to live?”
“Yes.” He forced out the word. “But not with your magic.”
She raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Well, then I guess Aurora may gain some fear inside of her yet.” She turned to Aurora. “Sixteen days, my dear. Enjoy them.”
Then she was gone.
Phillip seemed to sink further into the bed, but his eyes didn’t leave Aurora’s face. Many questions lay in their depths, but he didn’t ask them. Instead, his eyes slid closed and silence was once again Aurora’s greatest friend.
Her hands shook as she pushed herself up from the ground. She let her mind rest as she walked the length of the cottage to stoke the fire and clean up what she could. Wrapping her fingers around the handle of a broom, she swept, enjoying the mindless motion.
La Dame left a chill behind her that had nothing to do with the late autumn freezes. Aurora stopped moving and leaned against the broom for support, her chin resting against her chest. She breathed in deeply, trying to will away La Dame’s words ringing in her mind.
Aurora may gain some fear inside of her yet.
Her eyes settled on Phillip of their own volition. He’d risked his life in turning down La Dame. There was no guarantee he’d recover. She’d drained as much of the infection as she could, but the fever persisted, and she didn’t know what else to do.
Yet, he’d said no. It would have been so easy for him to accept La Dame’s healing magic. She wouldn’t have only made the infection disappear, but also the wound itself. He’d have been able to return to the palace, to his family, his friends.
He’d have been able to escape the crazy girl living alone among the trees. Sometimes, she wished she could escape herself as well.
“He trusted you,” she said, needing to hear the words out loud. “Why?”
Phillip probably thought something was loose in her brain when she spoke to herself, but she wouldn’t burden him with the truth. She’d lived in silence for so long, speaking to no one other than her mule, that she said thoughts out loud just to fill the empty spaces.
With a sigh, she put the broom away and prepared her own simple supper—dried rabbit she’d caught weeks ago and the remaining berries from the trees near the wall. Soon, she’d have to venture out to her traps to check for more food.
Before Phillip arrived, she’d had a routine. Every day, she woke with the sun and walked to each of her traps, some more than a mile away. She used Lea to haul back anything she caught before hanging the animal carcasses behind her cabin to drain them of blood.
Some afternoons were spent butchering those she’d caught days before or collecting the various fruits and herbs that grew in the woods.
When time allowed, she walked through the trees, sometimes climbing them to get a better look at the forest she called home. She rarely saw or spoke to other people. Until Phillip.
She finished eating and sat beside his bed with a bowl of broth she’d boiled from animal fat and vegetables. When she tried to wake him, he only mumbled something unintelligible like he’d been doing since the fever set in.
She set the bowl aside and checked his wound. It was healing again, but his body still had to fight off the infection.
Lowering his shirt, she rested her elbows on the bed and leaned forward. This time, when she spoke to the darkness, the words weren’t meant for her alone. “You have to fight this, Phillip. If you die, my last act was in vain. I don’t know why you said no to La Dame, or why you trust me, but I believe in you. Even if I can never be your subject, I know you’ll make a great king. I wish I was going to be around to see it.” A tear slipped down her cheek.
Phillip’s hand brushed her cheek, but she wasn’t sure he’d heard any of her words. His eyes remained shut as she took his hand in hers.
She stayed by his bed into the night, falling asleep with her forehead leaning on the mattress.
The sun nearly blinded Aurora when she opened her eyes the next morning. Pain inched up her neck from sleeping at such an odd angle. It took her a moment to realize she was still sitting beside the bed, Phillip’s long fingers entwined with hers.
She lifted her head to find him staring at her, the flush gone from his cheeks.
“Morning.” His voice still sounded rough, but the word was said with little effort.
She slipped her hand from his, embarrassed he’d found her holding it. Words escaped her, and a small smile tilted his lips, transforming his sickly face into that of the handsome prince she’d met.
Pressing the back of her hand to his forehead, she released a breath when it was cool against her skin. “The fever.”
“Gone.” His eyes crinkled, the first sign of true life she’d seen from him in a week.
Her heart leapt into her throat, and she could no longer control her emotions as she leaned down, pressing her lips to his. The act was so fast, she hadn’t known what she was doing.
He froze beneath her, and she tried to pull back, mortified.
Before she got too far, he reached up, pulling her back to him, taking control. Aurora had never kissed anyone before, but all insecurities floated away as Phillip released a growl deep in his throat. His lips moved expertly against hers. It wasn’t until his tongue slipped past her lips that the nerves got the best of her. She clamped down, accidentally biting his tongue in the process.
He yelped in surprise, and she jumped back, her chest heaving. “I’m… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No,” he agreed. “You shouldn’t have.”
Embarrassment washed through her until he smirked. “The tongue biting part. The kiss was unexpected, but I can’t say I regret it.”
It was the most he’d been able to say in a week, and she should have been glad to see light enter his eyes, but instead, she wished she could take it all back. She’d been so relieved to see the first sign of a recovery, her body had taken over.
But Phillip Basile was a prince. A prince who deserved happiness. And her? She was just a girl running out of time.
As if sensing her discomfort, Phillip’s grin dropped. “Aurora, look at me.”
She shook her head.
“Please.”
“I need to check your wound.” She didn’t meet his eyes as she lifted his shirt like she’d done so many times before. She knew his chest better than she’d known any man’s. The scar was warm against her fingers. “I had to put in a few stitches this time, but you weren’t conscious, so I figured you wouldn’t mind.” She lowered his shirt. “The fever has broken. That’s a good sign. You’re over the worst of it. Now you just need to regain your strength and then you can leave and return to your life.”
She rocked back on her heels to stand and wiped her hands on her skirt.
“Aurora,” Phillip said again, this time more forcefully.
She turned away from him and stepped into the kitchen. When she returned to his side, she handed him a cup of water and a plate of bread. “You need to eat to regain your strength. If we are to have meat, I must go check the traps.”
Without another word, she pulled on her boots and cloak. As she stepped out the door, Phillip’s words followed her. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
She shut the door, putting the barrier between them. Leaning against the outer wall of the cottage, she ran a hand through her hair, knowing it needed a wash but only able to focus on what happened moments before. She touched her lips, still feeling the whisper of his kiss.
She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to care. Not now. Not when her life was so close to its end.
She closed her eyes, wanting to feel him against her again.
“You’re an idiot, Aurora,” she whispered. “He’s the prince of Bela, and not even he can save you from your fate.”
With a resigned shake of her head, she walked away, not allowing herself to look back.