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He smiled back at her almost shyly. “I don’t think you would tell me if it was poorly done, even if it was atrocious.”
She shook her head. “Perhaps not, but that does not mean I am dishonest with you now.”
Sitting straighter, his eyes flashed with concern. “I did not mean to imply that you were dishonest, I only meant—”
“Wesley.”
He stopped talking abruptly, but concern still radiated from him.
“I was not offended, I believe I know what you meant.”
A sigh of relief slipped past his lips, the tension falling from his shoulders. She considered him and then considered Lady Daugherty’s words of caution on trusting others. She decided to go with her instinct and trust the kind prince. “Why are you so unlike the others here at court?”
If he was shocked at her frankness, he did not show it. “My parent’s court is much different than here. In North Helm, the Hallewell line has been ruling for over a century. My parents rule differently than how it is done in Haradon.” His voice held longing and she could tell he was homesick. “That is not to say that we do not have issues within our own court and power struggles—” He seemed to consider how best to phrase his thoughts. “I only mean to say that it is different.”
“I can see that.” She studied him, seeing the muscle in his cheeks tighten. “How long have you been away from home?”
“Three months, though it does feel much longer than that.” Sympathy softened his face. “I suspect I am in good company on the homesick front though.”
The willow tree hovering above them seemed to mock her longing. “I miss it very much. This place is so different, everyone is so eager for something from someone else, and no one ever says what they mean.”
“I should think you are used to that being from Crishaven. It is quite similar to Haradon, I am told.”
Wren silently cursed herself for forgetting who she was meant to be. “Of course. It’s only… I am low born, and court maneuverings did not mean much to me.” She hoped the explanation was enough to dissuade him from casting suspicion upon her.
He nodded, but she could see that her lie had not quite been accepted. “How long has it been since you were home?”
Too long. Had they given up looking for her and Cara? The thought was like a knife to the stomach. Images of Cara lying cold in the ground flooded her.
“Princess Wren?” Wesley’s voice was gentle and cautious.
“Hmm?” she asked, before she became aware of the fresh tracks of tears down her face. She had spent so long trying to repress those thoughts and yet with one question she was back sitting next to Cara’s grave.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she wiped her tears hastily. “It’s just—” The truth died on her lips.
“It’s all right. You don’t need to say anything you don’t want to.”
Maybe it was the open honesty in his face or the way he asked nothing of her, but the words poured out of Wren before she had thought it through.
“My best friend died right before I arrived. It was terrible and unexpected.”
Before the words were out the prince had already taken her hand in his, his brow furrowed with genuine concern. “That must be so difficult for you.”
With her free hand she tried to erase the tears that wouldn’t stop now that she had let them out. “She was brave and kind and better than me in every way that matters. It should have been me that died, not her.”
It was a truth she had not yet been brave enough to think out loud and yet it was as real as the sun shining down above them.
“I’ve only known you a small while now and I would risk my life to say that I am sure your friend would disagree with that. If she was as brave and good as you say, I think she would want you to be happy.” His voice was soft, comforting in a way she hadn’t experienced before.
Wren thought of Cara and how she had always pushed her towards finding her own happiness. Everyday hurt without her by Wren’s side and somehow she knew that it would always hurt. This loss was imprinted on her soul, but she always knew that Wesley was right. Cara would want her to find happiness.
The heaviness that clung to Wren like a second skin told her that that day would not come for quite a while. She would grieve her friend and for all the life that was lost to her.
“Thank you,” Wren managed. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to talk about her.”
“It is my privilege and honor that you chose me,” he said, raising his free hand to his heart.
“You are very easy to talk to,” she said.
