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“I am sorry, princess,” he apologized. “Were you pacing the hallway with a purpose?”

Avalana’s eyes tightened at the corners. The twist of her mouth tugged her nose off-center left. “Yes, I was. As a matter of fact, I was waiting for you.” She clenched her jaw.

Loric acted as though nothing had happened. “Whatever for?” he asked.
I am not at fault. I
did nothing wrong.
“Could this matter not wait until our allotted lesson time?” He wished it could wait longer than that, but his carefree answer provoked the princess to open vexation.

“Do you not already guess why it could not?” Avalana questioned, a jealous flame burning contrary to her cool blue eyes. Before Loric could respond, she went on to ask, “Have I truly affronted you so much that you already seek the affections of another? And worse, she--that....

that....
girl
--is the niece of your overlord’s rival from Landolstadt!”

“No,” Loric denied it aloud, without thinking his denial through. Avalana raked him with harsh words that he neither heard nor wanted to remember as he reasoned,
Hadelia claimed she
hailed from Landolstadt.
Long black hair and pale skin, blue eyes and good looks were all traits Hadelia shared with Lord Regent of Beledon, Hadregeon, the King of Landolstadt. Loric shook his head against the truth and the heat of Avalana’s words. Loric shrugged that matter aside in favor of the true offense in question.

“Avalana,” he began, when the princess at last ran out of Regalsturnian expressions of wrath for him, “Lady Hadelia kissed
me
.”

“And you accepted the gift she bestowed upon you with great regret!” came her biting

sarcasm. “I saw you! I saw the whole thing,
wysz maszba do
!”

Unknowing the exact content of Avalana’s insult, Loric loosed the reins on his tongue to lash out in return, saying sardonically, “On two feast nights, I have watched you push Garrett away from you for your lack of want. And Lord Dandrakor leaves me wondering-”

Avalana’s eyes went wet with tears and she shook her head, sniffling, “I am sorry

Dandrakor’s men attacked you, Loric. I had no idea he would react to our friendship as he did.”

She huffed a frustrated sigh and confessed, “Lord Dandrakor and I have shared feelings for one another for time beyond recall, but-”

“Then why did you set your trap for my heart?” Loric growled impatiently. He wanted to walk away, because of his anger. He wanted to stay, for Avalana was hurt and pitiable. He turned his gaze to the floor.

“Trap?” Avalana questioned in a way that begged him to look up. “No
trap
was ever intended,” came her firm reply. I....” Her voice washed away in rivulets of her tears.

Loric closely studied the princess. The downcast of her blue eyes and the stretch of her jaw with lips fused together signaled that she had something to say. The twitch in her throat assured Loric that she was afraid to share her opinion, which was contrary to her royal rank. Loric pressed her to continue, prodding, “Say on, Avalana. Have you ever known me to be angry with you--before now, I mean?”

She shook her head in reply.

“Then why are you afraid to speak your heart and mind to me?” Loric asked her, desperate and confused.

“It is not
your ANGER
that I fear,” Avalana replied.

“Whose then?” Loric demanded, misunderstanding her stresses. Silence fell between them, as they both considered where this argument--this conversation--might lead them. Like the unwitting victim of an assassin, Loric was stricken by the truth. The thought that Dandrakor might see to Loric’s untimely end if the princess ever openly expressed her true feelings for him terrified her. Such a profession would be outright rejection to the Lord of Gurn, who was a dangerous man to antagonize.

“I fear nothing,” Avalana lied, afterward adding, “save perhaps me. I feel as though my heart is perilously close to joy and pain, happiness and grief, all at the same time. On two feast nights, I have danced with a would-be prince who has a heart of granite, for all of his courtly niceties. The first night, I thought of Dandrakor and you. But tonight my thoughts were only on you, a stranger I met by chance....”

A flood of tears streamed down Avalana’s cheeks. “Can you not see, my poor blind
Ami?”

she choked between sobs. “I imagined that I was in your arms, and that you were leading me across that floor tonight--until I saw you with that--that lesser woman, who is scarcely a woman at all! Garrett has a kingdom, but he cannot know love. The same is true of Lord Dandrakor, who only loves his power. I thought you were different. Although you were deprived of you proper, lordly status--or maybe because of that--I believed you were warm and your words were kind.

Yet, I see now that they are nothing more than oft-repeated phrases that help you steal kisses from whosoever should be willing to give them to you! I wanted to trust you, but now I am afraid to let myself believe you are any better than any other lord is.” Avalana paused but a moment before she reasoned aloud, “And yet, I cannot run from you, as I would run from Garrett and Dandrakor. Mountaintops cast me down! Drown me in the sea!”

Loric shook his head against her woeful pleas.

Avalana continued to pour out her feelings, confessing hopelessly, “I am helpless against my belief that you are not the double-dealing cheat I saw earlier tonight. Therefore, I must believe you are in fact the other Loric I know: my
Ami.
You have to be the Loric who speaks from his heart and makes no pretense about his feelings. Garrett and Dandrakor are both men of higher birth, Loric, but in you I have seen only a just heart, until tonight. This night robs me of joy and shatters my soul. Perhaps this
Lady
Hadelia has seen this quality in you as well. No,” Avalana argued against herself, moving toward her door with the clumsiness of one deeply wounded.

“Perhaps it is for the best that you have shown so little restraint in the presence of other women or I would still trust you....”

“What are you saying, fair Avalana?” Loric asked, completely baffled by the jumble of messages he was receiving. “Aside from your warranted loss of faith and trust in me--for which I am deeply regretful--it almost sounds as though....” Loric could not finish his sentence, because he could not believe it was possible.

Avalana had to finish for him, because she could not deny the truth. She nodded reluctantly and said, “I love you, Loric, my
Ami.”

Loric could not reciprocate with words. He was acutely aware of every detail of the lovely princess, even down to the subtle points of her ears, the least mole on her arm. He knew her passions, con and pro, and yet he had never thought to hear his name uttered amongst the latter group. It was improbable, but it was wholly welcome. It was forbidden, and therefore more tempting to Loric. He strayed from the magnitude of the princess’ statement to the weight of her burden to question, “Yet this causes you pain?”

“It is painful beyond what words can express,” Avalana answered. “I love thee, Loric, and because of my love, I can forgive you that
one
kiss.” She continued, “But I am a princess by blood, and by my blood I am bound. That is why I must marry a nobleman of equal status, not lesser.” Avalana burst into tears and begged, “Do you not understand? I have told you before.

My father is not here for a mere visit. Rather, he is here to make alliances by giving away my hand.”

Loric’s mind reeled. He had heard Avalana speak of Avalar’s intent before, but he always denied it by forgetting about it. Belinda and Barag danced through his head once more. “No,” he murmured. He could not believe what he was hearing, and yet he realized Avalana had spoken the truth. It was evident in her words, but he refused to accept it. His heart was screaming to the thinking mass inside his head that it could not be true. He did not want it to be true. Yet he understood that it was as the princess had said.

Loric had released his cares for Belinda and Barag. He had decided the bully could have Belinda. He likewise wished the couple many years of happiness together. Loric was at peace.

He had met Princess Avalana, whose loveliness had helped him forget Belinda. He had kissed Lady Hadelia, who had helped him to look past the impossibility of his relationship with Avalana. Now the reality of that impropriety had come to drive home a killing blow.

“You mean-?” Loric began doubtfully, as he came to realize who would benefit from

Avalar’s intended alliance.

“Yes,” answered the princess, looking as pale as one receiving her death sentence. “My father intends to pledge my hand to Garrett. He has not said as much to me, but I guess all that he plans for his kingdom.” Avalana ended on a bitter note.

Loric’s head was awhirl with confusion. All he could see was a replay of Belinda and Barag making merry at
Taggert’s Pub
, only the characters were Avalana and Garrett, and the setting was the Hall of Heroes. “My lady,” Loric asked, straining against the wild surge of emotions within him, “why do you tell me these things? Nothing I can do can prevent this happening. It is as you say. You are a princess by blood, and by your blood you are bound.”

“I know.” Avalana wept. “I also know that my father has likely made his choice, not to be swayed from it,” she continued softly. “I only hope to spare you from further pain because of me.”

How does knowing this spare me so?
Loric wanted to question.
Knowing that the lady I
adore above all shall be wed to another before my eyes--It wrenches at my heart.

Avalana spoke on desperately, saying, “I tell you, so you may be comforted in knowing that my eyes weep with yours and my heart also despairs with yours.”

Footsteps came echoing down the hall, making it easier for Loric to say his farewell. “I am warned, but I am still wounded. I am comforted, but I feel no comfort.” Loric brushed tears from Avalana’s eyes in spite of his hurts and assured her, “The only comfort I will ever have, is in knowing that you are happy, fair princess. Farewell. I wish a happy marriage to you.” He turned toward his door.

“The only comfort I will ever have,” Avalana answered, crying, “is in knowing that my happiness comes from your love for me.”

That stopped Loric outside his room. He wanted to turn and take the princess in his arms, assure her that everything would be all right. It was a dream for fools. Loric shook himself awake.

“Good night, Loric,” said Avalana She vanished behind the timber panels of her door as Loric surrendered his hope of denying his affection for her and turned to say as much. It was too late. Avalana was gone.

Loric went into his room, where he collected two of the five blue stones Aldric had left for him. He snapped his door into place behind him as approaching footsteps turned up the hallway.

They passed his room without slowing beats, until they finally dwindled out of earshot. Loric buried his sorrow for the princess, along with his self-pity. He shook those pebbles in his palm as a reminder of his sworn duty to Egolstadt.

“I will see you then, Aldric,” Loric murmured. He undressed, snuffed his candle and belly-flopped onto his bed, adding, “First, I will take a short nap to remove the dull taint of fatigue from my mind.”

****

shadows. Nothing stirred. He eased himself from his mat, slipped on his trousers and tunic, and grabbed the Sword of Logant from his bedside. Moving quietly to the door, he stopped and listened.

A soft
click
came from across the hall. Loric yanked the door open to confront a dark-cloaked figure with a hand on Avalana’s door handle. “What are you-?”

A cudgel appeared from the black shroud around the humanoid--it could as well have come from thin air, for all the chance Loric had to see it--and brutally caught the bold squire in the side of his neck. Coughing and gasping for air, accompanied by a battle against dim and spotty vision, nearly consumed the whole of Loric’s actions. The dark-clad shape turned to flee.
I must
stop him!

Loric felt his sheathed blade tangle between the assassin’s legs, just before the knotted mass of flailing limbs and thick woolen cloth that was trying to escape him ripped the weapon from his grasp. In an instant, he was on top of cloaked elbows and knees, which were striking out in all directions to get at him. With rabid ferocity, Loric lit into the covered area where he believed the man’s head should be. When his punches were not forceful enough to end the struggle, he reached for the thick club that had almost taken him down. Its stout wooden barrel stilled the form beneath him.

Leaving the unconscious assassin where he lay, Loric retrieved the Sword of Logant and darted to the end of the corridor in search of the Egolstadter who secretly guarded the most common approach to Avalana’s room. When Loric came to the bench where the man should be sitting his watch, posing as a casual reader, he found only his book.
Why is Belduin away from
his post?
he wondered, until he spotted a smear of blood. A closer look revealed a streaky trail of red, which he followed to a linen closet. Fearing the worst for Belduin, Loric drew a deep breath and pulled the door open. Within, he found the ghastly white husk of the soldier of Egolstadt, his eyes frozen in the moment of his murder. He had a messy line beneath his chin to mark the clean cut that had ended his life.

Loric felt sick. He kept control of his quivering diaphragm by sheer force of will. He snapped the closet shut and raced to the opposite end of the corridor, only slowing long enough to plant a frustrated kick in the ribs of the downed assassin. He did not stop running until he spotted Aldric’s other man, who was slumped in a corner with an empty bottle and tankard nearby, looking like the drunkard passersby were supposed to see.

“Nerstlin! Come quickly! The assassin has murdered Belduin. I caught the killer before he could harm Princess Avalana, though,” he added, feeling somewhat ashamed for his personal relief that his beloved princess was safe, while Belduin lay dead.