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Rowan brought Shadow to a halt outside the yawning mouth of a cave. It was the auburn mare he’d tamed weeks ago in Harwin’s stable. He’d broken horses more times than he could count, yet couldn’t recall a more responsive creature. Wildness had bent down to loyalty within the last fortnight, and the mare seemed to regard him as an old friend.
Rowan thought of Sunbeam and how he’d never had to train him for battle. Like he’d been born to it.
Blanchette slid off Shadow’s back. She’d led them to a waterfall nestled in the lush wood’s heart. It cascaded over the mouth of the cave. Water flowed down from a rocky ledge, shining in the sunlight that peeked through the leaves. It fell in a curtain of liquid silver, and as it descended, it created an ethereal mist that clung to the air.
The sounds were a symphony of nature’s harmony. The waterfall’s gentle roar echoed through the woods, a melody that resonated with the very heartbeat of the earth.
Rowan tied the horse’s lead to a branch and followed Blanchette.
They waded across the pond toward the waterfall. Its roar was so loud it drowned out the world around them. Rowan climbed out of the water and onto the rocks. He turned, dropped to a knee, and offered his hand to Blanchette. She took it, and as he pulled her up and into his arms, his blood rushed into his eardrums. They were both dripping wet—Rowan in his shirtsleeves and trousers, Blanchette in a simple linen dress and her red riding cloak. They stared into each other’s eyes for what seemed a lifetime, the waterfall roaring behind them and echoing the beat of their hearts.
His gaze traveled down her wet, slender body, taking in the way the fabric of her red cloak gripped her curves. Blond curls were plastered against her face and shapely breasts. Rowan felt an ache stir in his groin. How long had it been since he’d lain with a woman?
Blanchette smiled at him coyly, as if she could read his thoughts, a hint of mischief on her lips. Then she turned away and ventured onward.
Sunshine turned into a shadow as they entered the cave’s mouth. Blanchette was just fine, but Rowan had to duck at the opening.
He heard the thunderous rush of the waterfall above his head. It sounded like they’d entered the belly of some ancient creature. Rowan moved farther inside the cave, where the light bowed to the darkness.
“How long have you known about this place?” he asked Blanchette. His voice echoed against the rocks, making it sound like there were seven of him.
Sunlight from the cave’s opening cast Blanchette as an elegant silhouette. “Willem, Isadora, and I found it together. I was nine. I haven’t been back here for years. Not since Isadora left for Demrov.”
They trekked farther inside the cave, watching as the daylight grew fainter and the walls opened around them. Soon, they were in the middle of a vast and shadowy cavern.
“Why did you bring me here?” His voice echoed into the sonorous gloom, making him realize the cave was much larger than he’d first thought.
“Well, this is your home now too. I wanted to share its secrets with you. Share what makes Norland so beautiful and special to me.”
Rowan placed his hand on her shoulder and absently fingered the damp material. It clung to her like a second skin. One he desperately burned to shed for her. “You are what makes Norland so special.”
And she was. Firm yet delicate, wise beyond her years but still sheltered and unworldly. An enigma. A puzzle. He wanted nothing more than to take her apart gently, then put her back together again.
He’d piece her together, fitting himself within her so she’d be a part of him forever.
His eyes slipped over Blanchette, taking in the rapid rise and fall of her wet bosom and the way the fabric held tight to her pale skin.
“We used to run down here… Governess Agnes would chase us through the castle gates in a fury. We’d hide inside here,” she said with a smile, gesturing to the dark space. “We’d hear Governess Agnes calling for us from behind the waterfall, as mad as an ox… ‘Oh, you terrible, terrible children! Not fit to sit in a privy, let alone a royal seat. I shall whip all three of you for this.’ Of course, she never laid a finger on us, let alone a switch. She loved us dearly, and we her. I think we were the children she never had. Her husband had died years before we were born, and Mother saved her from a life of destitute.”
“I always admired Joanna. She was everything a queen should be.”
“Yes. Yes, she was.”
Blanchette tucked her hand into the cloak and withdrew a flint and torch. Then she walked to the wall, which was smothered by shadow. The aroma of earth and dampness filled the air, a subtle musk that tickled Rowan’s nose.
He watched as her fingertips brushed the uneven surface of the cave wall. They danced lightly, like a lover’s tender caress, until they found the perfect niche. There, she poised the flint against the stone. The friction was a tactile ballet, a rasp that sent sparks of excitement coursing through his veins.
But it was the moment of transformation that truly ignited his senses. The faintest glow began to take shape, an ember of warmth against the cold dark. The soft pop and crackle of the spark finding life was music to the ears. Rowan fixed his eyes on the nascent flame, captivated by the play of light and shadow it cast on the walls.
As the torch’s fiery tongue licked the air, its warmth washed over him like an embrace, and the scent of burning pine mingled with the earthy aroma. The cave came alive with a newfound energy, a vibrant pulse that matched the rhythm of his racing heart.
Blanchette turned to him, her eyes now gleaming in the torchlight. At that moment, she was the keeper of light in this realm of shadows, a guardian of secrets in the heart of Norland’s earth.
She returned to him, the torch in her hand, its wavering light throwing shadows along the cave. They stretched and crawled up and down the walls. Beasts prowling in the night. Her eyes shimmered in the fiery glow of the torch. A beautiful winter, kissed by the fire.
“My mother and sister… Willem… they were good,” she finally said. Her voice was nearly inaudible beneath the torch’s crackling hiss. “They would have died for their kingdom, and I suppose they did in the end.”
