Frederic confirmed my reading of the situation when he wouldn’t even meet my eyes the next day. The Tour packed up and traveled onward the day after that, taking the one road large enough for us all, running through the jungle east to west. Even with only the one major road—which intersected with a single large north-south road—the junglers struggled to keep the length of it clear from the ever-encroaching greenery. Whole teams of them were employed by the crown in the task, and we passed one such team before reaching the next village.
We stopped for one or two nights at every village we passed and were feasted and entertained with exhibitions and competitions. Frederic and Celine both laughed with me at our first eastern village.
“It’s exactly the same as in the west,” Celine whispered to me over the evening meal.
“It even tastes the same,” Frederic agreed in an undertone.
I chuckled. “I did try to warn you.”
After that they both took great delight in pointing out any tiny difference they could spot between the eastern villagers and the western.
In reality our slow journey took only a matter of weeks, but still I began to fear we would never leave the jungle. It didn’t help that all the time we crept closer and closer to my own old village near the eastern edge.
Frederic had regained his ease around me, but Celine watched us with an eagle eye that made me jumpy every time I saw it. I spent my time adjusting clothes and avoiding the locals. And dreaming of returning again to a place that didn’t buzz with the constant hum of insects.
My nightmares intensified until sometimes my restlessness did wake Celine. She asked about them, but I refused to give her details. The dreams of the taunting jungler children now mingled with more horrifying visions. Ones that now, as I had feared, included a smell that sometimes woke me retching. Because we would only leave the jungle when we reached the desert.
When at long last the Tour rode into my old home, it turned out to be rather anti-climactic. The village looked just as it had when I had left it more than four years ago, and yet, somehow, it looked also smaller and only half-familiar, as if it were a place from a distant dream—as if I had grown past this place and the emotions it had once roused in me.
The locals had all gathered to welcome us, and I scanned their faces for any familiar ones. I wasn’t sure who I dreaded seeing more—my old foster mother or her children.
One young man looked familiar, his own eyes widening in recognition as they met mine. Brandon. I rode next to Celine, only two rows back from the princes, and his eyes raced between me and the princess.
I gave him a cold inclination of my head.
I thought I had seen everyone by the time I dismounted, so the soft arms that enveloped me in a smothering hug took me by surprise. I pushed back, disentangling myself from the sudden attack.
“My little one! My lamb!” The older woman wiped tears from her eyes. “My dearest daughter! Just look at you. So big! So beautiful!”
I drew a deep breath as I felt a familiar someone come to stand behind me. I didn’t look back, but I did draw strength from Frederic’s silent presence. I straightened my spine and regarded the woman who I had once called Mother Nora.
“Nora. You look well.”
“Never mind me,” she said, still apparently overcome by my presence. “The missing daughter has returned! What a wonderful day.”
What was Frederic thinking of her words? Did he question my tale of hardship in the face of such profusions? I stood firm.
“I’m not your daughter.”
“Evie? What is this?” She looked shocked and hurt.
“You call me your little one, your lamb, your missing daughter. But I wasn’t lost. I left. And you made no effort to stop me when I did so, although I was only fourteen, and had only a small handful of coins to my name.”
She stumbled back a step, her face falling. “I didn’t want you to leave, Evie, I assure you. But you remember how it was…so difficult…”
“I am sure my leaving brought more peace to your days.” I looked her straight in the eyes. “And I remember how your children constantly harassed me.” I paused, my face set. “And I remember how you never made any true attempt to stop them.”
“Evie, please…” She sounded weak now, and I remembered that she had always been so, although I hadn’t seen it at the beginning. Her desire for an easy life and peace had overridden the kind heart that had led her to take me in. She was the parent, but her children had been the ones to rule.
And I realized, also, that it no longer pained me as it once had.
“You housed me for two years, even though you didn’t have to. And for that I thank you. And for the rest I forgive you. But I claim no kinship. I wish you well in life, but you have not earned the right to be a part of mine.”
She gave me one last beseeching look, but when I said nothing she left. As soon as she was gone, I slumped, my strength and determination overridden by a sudden wave of exhaustion.
“Well done, Evie,” said Frederic.
I turned to face him, looking up into his eyes. “You did not think me cruel?”
“Cruel? She was the one who was cruel to you. I would not have been so gentle toward her.” A cold look filled his eyes, and I shivered though it wasn’t aimed at me. It was hard in moments like this to remember to keep my distance.
He looked down at me. “I don’t know how you do it, Evie.”
“Do what?”
“Be so gracious and poised after everything you’ve been through.”
I stared at him, too startled to speak. Me? Gracious and poised? Fear filled me. How long until he saw the mess of distrustful fear inside me? I had been right to put no stock in whatever fleeting emotion he now felt.
The town elder approached us and pulled Frederic away. I let the swirl of action move around and then pass me, making no effort to follow the group of leaders, both Tour and village, who now bore Frederic toward our welcome meal.
But when I at last thought I stood alone, a voice startled me. It sounded different, deeper, slower than I remembered, but it remained recognizable.
“Brandon,” I said as I turned toward him.
“You’ve returned.”
I nodded, eyeing him wordlessly, unsure what he wanted from me. An instinctive urge told me to run, but I wasn’t a traumatized young girl anymore. I didn’t have to run from jealous children.
You would—and have—run from Marcus, an internal voice reminded me. But I shook it away. Marcus had never been cruel with the petty jealousies of childhood—he had been cold with the icy rage of a man who had grown twisted instead of straight and true. He threatened not only me, but the whole kingdom. It was only sensible to be afraid of him.
“What do you want, Brandon?” I asked, the weariness from earlier returning.
“You seem to be friendly with the royals.”
“And?”
He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to…to welcome you back.”
I raised an eyebrow, and he shifted his weight from side to side. “I thought there might be some…misunderstanding about before.”
Comprehension dawned. “You mean, you’re afraid that now I’m the one in a position of power, I might attempt to wreak some sort of revenge on you.” I looked at him for a moment before sighing. “I won’t, although if you’ve been fearing it since my arrival, it’s no more than you deserve after the constant fear you inflicted on me all those years ago.”
He looked away uncomfortably. “I’m sure you don’t believe I mean it, Evie, but I am sorry. We were heedless, and…well…mean. I can see that now.”
“Good.” I rubbed at my temples where a headache bloomed. “If you wish to repay me, make sure no child in this village—or any you may live in—is ever tormented in such a way again.”
He said nothing.
“Where are the others?” I wished I felt no curiosity, but I could not deny having just a little.
He shrugged. “They moved on to other villages.” He gave a short laugh. “Lela even moved to a westerner village.”
“That must have pained Nora.”
“As you can imagine.” He smiled at me, and then the expression dropped away as he remembered we weren’t old friends exchanging reminiscences. “Ah, I need to get back…”
“Go. You don’t need to fear me.”
He hesitated. “Thank you, Evie.”