Never Learn Not to Love

Chapter 1 - Be Here In The Morning

A second crash came from down the hallway, but Asher was already in motion, the rings on her leather jerkin clattering like a tinsmith’s shop. It was dark in this hall. Unlike at the castle at Hawthorne, the wooden walls of the royal outpost in Korthof didn’t lend themselves to sconces and suet-soaked torches. Asher knew the hall well, though. It was Princess Caroline’s, and she was Asher’s duty.

At full charge, Asher’s shoulder cracked against the stout wooden door. She could feel the joint pull. Asher took two steps back and charged again, putting all of her weight against the door. No amount of cotton and hide could soften the blow. Furious white pain shot through her arm, now hanging limp at his side.
“Caroline!”

There was no answer from the far side of the door. Asher held her shoulder with her left hand and kicked at the door, striking it with her boot heel above the handle. It sunk, surly. She kicked again, and again, the iron bending in the lock, finally breaking.

The door opening brought a world of light into the dark hallway. The princess’ fireplace was ablaze, as were several silk curtains lit by candles that had once been on the dining table. The table was standing, but food, linens, candles, silver – all were on the floor. So was Caroline.

But the fires were the first priority.

Wincing with pain, Asher tore down the pale silks, pulling them away from the palisade walls of the outpost. There were fell creatures in the forests, here in the hinterlands of the kingdom, things to be afraid of – but nothing more frighting than fire. The smell of the burning silk brought those fears home. It smelled sweet and pungent like flesh.

The fires stomped and wetted, Asher kneeled by her charge. Caroline was breathing, but a sliver of the girl who left Hawthorne those years ago. Asher took a spilled pitcher of strong wine and dabbed purple on her lower lip, hoping it would revive her. Her lips closed, tasting the sugar. Her eyes fluttered.

“Misi…why did you try to hurt me?” The princess’ words drifted in and out of audibility.
Asher picked her up and from under the tablecloth she had pulled over and carried her to her bed. She was lighter than a child, hanging limp in her arms. How had it gotten this way? Caroline had always been slender, sprightly – but when they left the heart of the kingdom on their tour of the wildlands she was a healthy girl. Flush of face, with even some curve to her hip and bosom. Nothing like her sister, of course. The First Daughter was famous throughout the kingdom. There are statues of her that were just a big pair of bronze teats on a huge bronze arse, and men lay flowers and butter at her non-existent feet. No, Caroline was never like Misirlou.

But she was also never like this. Asher laid her on her feather bed and cursed herself for getting ushered out earlier. Caroline had such a way of putting people at ease, as if there were no worries in the world. She saw it every day when they were out with the people. How they love her! It was like she could take all their fear and heartache and absorb it, put them at peace. It was her gift. She would walk through the crowds, their hands on her face and hands and feet, giving blessings, offering words of peace and comfort. Asher had to fight to stay beside her some days, to be her sworn protector.

And now Caroline, Second Daughter of King Ronda, was dying.

Asher knew she didn’t have weeks, maybe not even days. Something was dreadfully wrong.

“Your Sea,” Asher whispered. She named her by her honorific. Not the glorious Your Heavens her sister would be called, but in some ways more real, more powerful. Maybe the Heavens can cross your fate or turn your lover twixt you, but the Sea can sink your navy. She brushed her face and Caroline’s eyelids fluttered. “Your Sea, can you hear me?”

“Asher?” Caroline opened her eyes. Her color was a shade richer than the porcelain white it had been a moment before. “Why does my head hurt?”

“You fell, Your Sea. Again. Caroline—” She brushed the hair out of Caroline’s face, the fine strawberry blonde locks like a pale cast off of her sister’s fiery red curls.

“I know, I know. I need to eat more, and rest more,” she sighed, closing her eyes. She seemed to drift off to sleep, breathing getting deeper.

“Caroline, I’m worried.” At the tone of Asher’s voice, the princess opened her eyes.

“I’m sorry for making you worry. I didn’t mean to. I haven’t felt well lately. Being present for my people seems to take everything out of me. I promise I’ll do better. And I promise I won’t push you away. Stay with me tonight?”

“Yes, Your Sea. I’ll be here in the morning.” While Caroline slept, her sworn soldier planned.