Ginny Hartman (20 page)

Gwendolyn rolled her eyes. “That's not a valid point; you know no one can see the wisps besides you.”

“Well then, I suppose you'll never know if I was thinking of him or not.”

“You're blushing. I think that tells me all I need to know.”

Rosalind sat forward and gently shoved Gwendolyn. “Oh Gwen, don't tell me that there is nobody who ever occupies your thoughts. Surely a beautiful girl such as yourself has many a suitor. Is there not one who has claim to your heart?”

It was Gwendolyn's turn to blush. “Nay, not a one.”

“Not a single suitor, or not a one that interests you?”

“I suppose there are a few lads who have expressed some interest, but certainly not any that I feel even tempted to return the emotion. There is one boy, the blacksmith's son, who sometimes walks me home when I go to the village to run errands for mother. He's always treated me with great kindness, and I suppose he's handsome enough, but though I desperately try to feel something for him, I never do. Maybe there is something wrong with me.”

“Oh, don't say that. Tis nothing wrong with you, you just simply haven't met anyone worthy of your pursuit, that's all.”

“I'm beginning to sound unaccomplished—I have no special gift of which to speak and no worthy suitors.”

Rosalind felt contrite for making Gwendolyn feel like she somehow wasn't good enough. “Nay, you just haven't fully blossomed. You are truly the most beautiful girl I know. Besides, I was never before interested in any of my suitors either.”

“Until Terric came along?”

“Well Terric isn't exactly one of my suitors,” she tried to explain, as she twisted her hands together.

“But tis different with him, right?”

“Aye, tis very different. Like you, I have never found myself interested in any of my suitors. Then one day, unexpectedly, your brother came along and slowly my entire opinion of the opposite sex changed.”

“That sounds so romantic, but you're talking about my brother,” she said as she made a silly face.

Rosalind laughed. “Aye, but from the start things were different with him. His heart is good. He is humble and kind, and he makes me smile. I never once felt like he was trying to change me or that he was condemning me for not being a typical princess. He was always content to let me be who I am, who I choose to be.”

“Of course, you're a princess. He very well couldn't tell you to change just to please him.”

“Possibly, though that never stopped my other suitors from attempting the feat. Terric's just different.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Aye, I do.” Rosalind responded simply, honestly.

“Now that you have learned how to transport, do you ever dream of going to him?”

Rosalind startled, looking at Gwendolyn with widened eyes, “I couldn't do that; it wouldn't be safe.”

“But do you ever think about it?” she asked naughtily.

Rosalind paused. Of course she had thought about it, but that didn't mean she would ever really do it. “Of course it has crossed my mind, but I would never do it. Besides, I don't even know where he's at.”

“Yes you do, He went to Peltis.”

“But I can't just imagine a place I have never been to and hope I transport to the exact location he is at.”

“I suppose you are right. But wouldn't you love to see him?”

“Of course, but I will just have to be patient until he returns.”

***

Later that night when the castle was quiet and the sky was dark, Rosalind lay in her bed, Terric's former bed, and thought back to the conversation she'd had with Gwendolyn earlier in the day. She hadn't told her at the time just how much the thought of transporting herself to Terric had crossed her mind. And lately, she had been dreaming of him. She often saw him in her dreams sitting in a small chamber writing furiously on parchment, though she never saw the words he was penning. She wondered what would happen if she transported herself to that chamber, if she would somehow be able to visit him in her dreams.

A fierce curiosity consumed her, and she wondered if it would be foolish to attempt such a thing. Her heart yearned for him, to know that he was well. In her selfish desire to see him, she summoned the wisps and, thinking of the chamber she had dreamed about, eagerly and hastily reached forth and touched them.  She barely had time to register apprehension at her nonsensical plan, rationalizing that if she somehow ended up in the wrong place, she could always transport back to the castle just as quickly.  Before she knew it, she was standing in the center of the chamber she had envisioned, but there was no sign of Terric, or anyone for that matter. The room was completely empty.

Chapter 21

Every Single Word

Terric was more than ready to retire for bed by the time he saw King Cedric to his bedchambers. Bidding the king goodnight, he slipped silently into his own chambers. As soon as the door closed, his breath hitched as he noticed a shadowed figure sitting at his desk. His hand instantly went to his sword. Grasping furiously onto the hilt, he pulled it from its sheath and pointed it at the intruder. He sucked in a sharp breath when the intruder turned to face him and, by the faint light of the dying fire, he laid eyes on his sweet Rosalind.

He held deathly still as she looked up at him with wide eyes. He must be more tired than he even realized to be imagining her here in Peltis, in his private chamber no less. Voice shaking, he whispered, “Rosalind?”

“Aye, tis me,” her sweet voice floated to his ears. Slowly he lowered his sword, unwilling to take his eyes off of the vision before him, whether real or imagined.

Holding up several sheets of parchment before her, she asked, “Did you mean what you wrote?”

His eyes flickered briefly to the words he had penned for her. “Every single word,” he said softly, but firmly.

She rose then, dressed in a simple linen nightgown, and he hoped desperately that she was real and not just a vision, for he yearned to touch her more than he yearned for his next breath of air. Not thinking clearly, he stepped forth and gathered her in his arms. She felt very real, as he held onto her soft body, inhaling her scent. His head tilted forward, and he reached up and brushed his palm against her smooth, soft cheek, his thumb brushing slowly, methodically over her lips. He felt her shiver in his arms and he felt an all-consuming urge to kiss her.

His lips found hers and urgently expressed to her the feelings of his heart. He heard the papers she had been holding in her hand flutter to the ground below, swishing against their feet, but he otherwise ignored them. Her kiss was even more fulfilling than he had dreamed it would be, her lips more soft than he remembered. Her arms went around his neck, and he lifted her in his arms spinning her around so he could set her atop his desk. He pushed between her legs and felt them come around his waist, heating his blood as he pressed himself closer to her. Her entire body was clinging to his and her kiss was passionate and lively, just like her.

Just as he thought he would drown completely in her kiss, he managed to pull away, just enough to see her face. “How did you get here?”

“Does it matter?” she asked breathlessly. “I only longed to see you.”

He held her tightly to his chest. “Oh how I've needed you.”

She nuzzled her face into his chest, as she slipped her arms from his neck and slid them around his waist. His mind was screaming that it was improbable for her to be there, that it wasn't safe, but his heart just wanted to hold her a bit longer. If he was dreaming, he didn't want to do anything to cause himself to wake. He allowed himself to hold her tightly for a moment longer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before he hesitantly withdrew, knowing he would never think clearly with her body pressed up against his. “I will never complain about seeing you, but I insist you tell me what you are doing here.”

She took a deep breath, “I transported here.”

Terric was taken back. “What do you mean?”

Rosalind laughed, a tinkling melody that further warmed his heart. “You should know exactly what that means, apparently transporting is in your blood, not mine.”

Terric went and sat on the edge of his small bed, running his hand through his hair.  Of course he knew what transporting was. His grandfather had been a transporter and had often gloated about his special gift, much to his grandchildren's dismay. Terric had often been in awe of the odd gift as a lad, but as he grew older and his grandfather passed on, so did his fascination with transporting. He hadn't thought back to his grandfather's strange ability for years.  

Perhaps that wasn't completely true, for there was that one time when he had first become a defender for King Cedric when he had experienced an odd occurrence. He had been training with the senior defenders at the time and had been battling a tough opponent. The man had pinned him to the ground, pressing his longsword roughly into his neck. It was the first, and the last time that Terric had been bested. The other defenders were quite happy that someone had finally been able to take him down, but Terric had not been happy with the outcome at all.

After he had left the field, he sullenly walked back to his chambers when thoughts of home assaulted him. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to be back at Emerson Castle where he was never the underdog. He wasn't sure how it happened, but the next thing he knew, he was standing in the stables next to Stephen, as if he was ready to mount the beast and gallop on home. It had shocked him immensely, but he had been too upset by his loss that he didn't allow himself to ponder the strange event, instead choosing to strategize in his mind how he would not allow himself to be bested ever again.

Looking back on it now, he was sure that he had transported. A strange feeling washed over him at the knowledge that he possessed his grandfather's gift. Oh how Aeden and Gwendolyn would be jealous to learn of his luck! Rosalind was silent the entire time he was thinking, giving him the time he needed to absorb this information.

He slowly raised his head to look into her eyes, “How do you do it?”

“How do I transport?” He answered her with a nod. “Well, tis actually quite simple, well now that I know how to do it, that is. First I must summon the wisps.”

Terric looked at her strangely, one brow cocked. “Wisps? What are wisps?”

“Colorful mist-like swirls. As soon as you are able to produce those, all you have to do is imagine the place you wish to be, touch the wisps, and just like that,” she snapped her fingers, “you are transported to where you imagined. It takes a fair amount of practice to get it right, but eventually it becomes rather easy.”

Terric rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Tis not how it happened for me. I do no recall seeing any such wisps.”

Rosalind clapped her hands excitedly, “You are a transporter too?”

“I suppose so, but I only vaguely remembering doing it once, many years ago, and my experience was not like the one you are describing. Perhaps it is different for everyone.”

Rosalind shrugged, “Possibly, but according to your mother, tis similar for everyone who possesses the gift. Would you like to attempt doing it now?”

He looked at her curiously, seriously considering if he wanted to try it or not. Finally, he stood and walked to where she was still sitting on the desk. He offered her his hands and pulled her to her feet. “Aye, why not?”

Rosalind's smile was radiant, which made him smile in return. “First you must try to think of whatever you were thinking about when you transported in the past.”

“I'm not sure I recall the precise thing I was thinking about. What do you think of when you wish to transport?”

Rosalind ducked her head shyly. Terric laughed and tilted her face up to his. “Is it truly so embarrassing?”

“I don't know why the key to accessing my gift has to be something so personal. Tis truly awkward to admit it aloud.”

“Now you've gotten me extra curious. Do tell what your secret is.”

“Tis you,” she mumbled.

“Tis I?” he asked, truly amused. “Then mayhap all I need to do is think about you.”

“Well go ahead and try it then,” she said encouragingly. “Close your eyes and think about me.” Terric did as she asked, but he couldn't help the grin that formed on his lips as he thought of her, knowing she was standing inches away staring right at him.

“Are you seeing any wisps yet?”

“Nay.”

“Try harder,” she urged.

Several seconds passed before Terric started laughing. “I feel foolish. I do not believe this will work. Mayhap it isn't working because there is nowhere else I'd rather be than with you. I have no need to transport right now.”

“Perhaps you aren't truly a transporter,” she said, her chin tilting in the air haughtily.

“Pity that,” he said flippantly. She cuffed him lightly on the arm which only made him laugh more. He felt so merry and lighthearted around her, so amused. He hadn't felt this happy since leaving her presence.

He reached behind her and turned the chair around so it was facing him and urged her to sit. “As much as I enjoy having you here, tis not safe for you to be in Peltis. We have yet to capture the person responsible for the attacks. You need to go back to Emerson Castle where you will be safe.”

Rosalind slid forward on her chair and reached for his hands. “Will I see you again?”

“I will try my best,” he answered honestly.

“You said you meant everything in those letters you wrote me,” she said, as she indicated to the papers strewn about the floor.

“Aye, that I did.”

“Is it true then that Asher is trying to persuade my uncle to allow him to marry me?”

Terric's jaw tightened in anger. The last think he wanted to think about was that man and his asinine plan. “Tis true,” he answered regrettably.

“Nay, tis a horrid idea. For I do not wish to marry. I told you that before, remember?”

“You do not wish to marry anyone?” he asked, surprising even himself with his boldness. He waited for her to answer, doubt and fear carving its way into his heart. He remembered the conversation perfectly, that he had told her that he too wasn't sure if he ever wanted to get married. And, that had been true then, but mayhap not anymore.