CHAPTER 22: "The Line Between Friends and Allies"
SIR OLIVER
The day was dark and stormy, but it did not stop the hustle and bustle of the town square. Sir Oliver was wandering around the marketplace, looking for Fatime, who, of course, wrote that she would find him first. She always had to be the predator.
The villagers were busier than ever. Merchants selling fur were taking advantage of the impending cold. One villager even boasted about a long, yeti pelt cloak, but Sir Oliver had seen a Yeti before and they were far whiter than this pelt. This was some buffalo's skin, but Sir Oliver gave kudos to the merchant for his successful fraudulence when a buyer took the bait and paid him ten shillings for the pelt. The buyer was an aristocrat, had to be to afford the pelt, and aristocrats were becoming more and more prominent in Nightingshire as the Harvest Festival drew near.
The village seemed to be more alive than ever. If only they knew that Lord Gerard bought this festival with their lives, Sir Oliver remarked to himself. Sir Oliver’s ears had never been more anticipatory of a dragon’s cry before now, since Ari had deduced Lord Gerard's involvement with the beast.
The knight saw the fountain that Fatime was to meet him by in the center of the marketplace. It was a gaudy spout, depicting a kraken being stabbed in the skull and the heart by two cherubs. Oliver sat down on the edge of the font and stared at the cherubs when he heard that familiar, raspy voice from behind him tease, “The artists spent a lot of time with the genitals.”
Oliver turned to see Fatime, in her blue head scarf, casually taking a seat near him on the edge of the fountain. She was careful not to look him in the eye, to avoid them being seen together, but the village was hectic enough to keep the attention away regardless.
“Is the boy’s father still hungry for blood?” asked Sir Oliver.
“Less so,” Fatime replied, “since Lord Gerard purchased them new land up the river. He still likes you and the girl enough to keep you around. New house, new barn. Maybe the Lord will buy the farmer a new son as well.”
“Is she safe?” Sir Oliver asked about Ari.“For now,” Fatime answered. “But for how long, I cannot say. Sir Galen requested the services of one of my Sisters again.”
“Why?”
“His informant retired. He told my Sister all that he knew about Ari so far, though. He was unable to obtain information during your recess, so you can at least rule out the Prince.”
That actually relieved Sir Oliver. After deducing Gerard’s involvement with the dragon’s lair, Sir Oliver naturally was suspicious of his son as well. He asked Fatime, “So there is still no word on the identity of Galen’s spy?”
“Not a name, no,” Fatime answered. “But the spy had information that only a comrade could have. They were close to the girl, that much is certain.”
“You do not think it could be one of your Sisters?”
“I cannot trust everyone, I confess. I am just reminding you of the same.”
Sir Oliver was going to turn back to her with a retort, but Fatime was in the wind, swimming through the mosh of villagers in the square. The knight was sure to heed her advice, though, and cultivated a theory as to who Ari had mistakenly trusted, a creature whom Sir Oliver never truly trusted.
ARI
When Sir Galen had left, Ari shed her armor vest and went off in search of Richard.
Ari looked all over for the Prince, but had trouble finding him. He was not where he normally might be, in the library, nose in a book. Ari even walked around the Great Hall to see if the Prince might be with his father, but there was no such luck.
The last place she thought to check was Prince Richard’s chambers. When she had climbed the stone steps to his tower, though, she could see the door cracked open. Ari peeked inside to find Richard, arms curled around his legs as he sat on his bed.
He looked up at her, but he did not smile. “What is it, Jason?” he asked.
Ari gulped and said, “I am sorry. I did not want to hurt you.”
'You cared not if you hurt me.”
“You hurt me!” she snapped, surprised at her own frustrations. She sighed and walked over to the bed, sitting next to him. “You told me to go back to where I came from…”
“I yielded,” Prince Richard informed. “You struck. But you take offense to my words?”
“Words hurt as well, my Prince,” Ari retorted. “More than a wooden sword.
”Prince Richard never had been one to hold a grudge. He looked at Ari with a sincere remorse. “Forgive me. Can you forgive me?"
She looked away to the floor, but nodded.
The Prince sniffled and said, "I do not have any friends, Jason. None but you. If you are not convinced how much you mean to me, then you are not paying attention."
Ari, bold and vulnerable, asked the Prince, "How long have you known?"
"Known what, Jason?"
"... how long have you known how I feel?"
The Prince put a hand on her face, stroking her cheek where her new scar was scabbing. "Since we departed for Grand Falls, perhaps."
Ari knew she had waited long enough. She grabbed Richard's fingers with her right hand, his head with her left, and planted a soft kiss upon his lips. At first, Richard recoiled, a little frightened, but then returned the affection.
As their lips met, Richard put both of his arms around her. Their bodies close together now, Richard moved his hands down the small of her back, to her hips and...
He stopped.
He let go immediately, pulled his face away from Ari's.
"Jason?" he gasped.
"Yes?" Ari asked, wondering what the problem was.
The Prince put a hand to his lips as if he had just kissed ice. He stepped off the bed and scanned her like he was finally seeing her for the first time. "You... Jason, you are... a girl," the Prince stammered. "I thought you were a boy."
Ari was utterly confused. "I thought... I thought you had known. You kissed me."
"Yes," the Prince replied. "Because I thought you were a boy."
It took a moment for Ari to register what the Prince was saying. When it did, she put a hand to her forehead and sighed, "Osha..."
SIR GALEN
From outside the door of the Prince's chambers, Sir Galen overheard a very interesting exchange and then tip-toed quietly down the stairs.
