Walking through the jungle wasn’t like strolling through the garden paths around the palace. The plethora of bright blooms was greater and more pungent, but no smooth gravel unfolded before our feet. Soon we were entirely enveloped in a cocoon of green, vines curling above our heads and snaking across the ground ready to trip us.
The jungle hummed with life, the calls of birds and distant monkeys mingling with the ever-present buzz of insects. I had forgotten how alive it felt here, how vibrant.
Frederic tripped on a vine and nearly fell, catching himself just in time.
“Careful,” I said. “The jungle doesn’t care too much about your dignity.”
He smiled at me. “I’ve noticed that. Highly disrespectful.”
I grinned back. “Why do you think even our nobles join our communal meals? It’s hard to stand on ceremony in a jungle.”
“Listen to you. Talking like a local.”
I went back over my words in my head and frowned. He was right.
He glanced at me with concern. “That wasn’t a criticism. There’s nothing wrong with being a jungler, you know.”
“Except I’m not one. I never truly fit in here. The person who was kindest to me in that village told me to run and not stop until I’d left the jungle behind. And she kept advising me to do so every day until I found the courage to escape. I was never a jungler.”
He weighed me with his eyes. “Perhaps not. But the jungle is still a part of you. It provides the material for your dresses, and you understand it in a way that I do not. That is something to value.”
I looked down at my feet, to give myself a moment to think. Was it true? Did I see each stage of my life as a burden that held me back rather than an integral part of who I was? It was an overwhelming thought.
The sound of rushing water had been growing stronger the nearer we came to the waterfall, until we broke free of the trees and stopped before the torrent. A small pool spread before us, constantly rippling from the disruption of the thundering water which poured down from rocky heights.
The waterfall looked graceful and delicate, like the softest lace, and yet strong and powerful at the same time. The water of the pool looked cool and inviting.
“Do the locals swim here?” asked Frederic.
One of the guides immediately shook his head.
“Only boys looking to impress one another,” I said. “There’s a strong current that will drag you under the fall and down. I’ll show you where they do swim, though.”
“Watch your step,” called the second guide, as I led Frederic down the rocky lip of the waterway. The cool liquid from the waterfall’s pool poured over a lip in the rock, looking like smooth, mobile glass. It filled a second, lower pool, this one’s surface calm, dotted only with a few leaves. Leading him further, I pointed to where the water flowed into a third pool before trickling away as a creek.
“The middle pool is the best for swimming. It’s deep enough for a proper dip, but without the danger of the one above.” I looked at it longingly. I should have worn my bathing costume.
“We should have come dressed for a dip,” said Frederic, mirroring my thought. “The walk here was hot work. But I can see why the locals love the spot so much. It’s breathtaking.” He looked across the pool. “I wish I had such a haven within easy reach of the palace.”
“Why? Do you often feel the need to escape?” The question popped from my mouth unbidden, the intimate setting promoting a sense of ease between us.
Frederic looked over at me, his brow creased. “Does it sound terrible of me? After all you’ve been through, what could I possibly have to run from in my life of ease?” He sighed. “No one has ever mistreated me, and I love my family. But sometimes I feel I shall be crushed under the weight of my responsibilities. Sometimes I fear I cannot bear the weight of a kingdom.”
It was a different kind of burden he bore to the burden of my past, but it was a heavy load all the same. Except he, at least, was much more fitted to bear it than me.
“Our experiences have been so different,” I said softly, “how can I hope to advise you? But I can say this—I have never met someone so suited to bear a responsibility he was born into. I have no doubt you will make a great king.”
His face remained drawn, but warmth filled his eyes. “It means much to me that you would say so. I just wish I could have the same trust in myself. I’ve made grievous errors of judgment before—about even my own family. I made no protest when my sister was sent away to a marriage alliance with a prince who turned out not to be worthy even to look on her. And I never suspected…”
His voice trailed away, but the haunted look in his eye told me he referred to the rebellion the year before. He had never seen the betrayal coming, and it weighed on him, more heavily than all the rest.
“You told me not so long ago that we cannot be responsible for failing to foresee the future. If that is true for me, it’s also true for you. You’re not king yet, and Lanover is not yet your sole responsibility to bear. And it will never truly be yours alone. Didn’t your sister see and foil the rebellion? You can trust in your family to help you.”
“My sister Celeste, yes.” He shook his head ruefully. “With her, too, I was blind.”
I forced a cheerful note into my voice. “Well, console yourself with this. With so many failures behind you, you must be growing eminently wise by this point. When the distant day comes for you to be crowned king, everyone will marvel at your insight and discernment.”
Frederic chuckled. “That’s why I need you around, Evie. You make me laugh at myself whenever I start to take myself too seriously. I don’t know how you do it, considering the life you’ve lived.”
“It’s an absolute requirement of such a history, I assure you, as it takes far less energy than constant weeping. And since you’ve so kindly confided your troubles in me, I daresay I can teach you the trick of it. But I should warn you that it takes a great deal of skill to learn, and you may not ever approach my level of brilliance.” I winked at him.
He chuckled again and moved toward me before suddenly pausing. His head whipped up, his brow lowering. “Did you hear something?”
I looked back the way we had come. The lush foliage blocked our view of the higher pool’s edge, and we couldn’t see the two guides. I ran the last few moments back through my mind.
“Maybe?” I took a step in their direction, but Frederic blocked my passage with his arm.
“Let me go first,” he said, his voice quiet.
I swallowed and nodded. What did he think he’d heard?
Careful of my footfalls, I trod silently behind Frederic. As we stepped up and around the greenery, he swore and dashed forward. I hurried behind him, not immediately seeing what had roused him.
But as he dropped to a knee, he revealed the prone figure of one of the guides. I gasped and would have knelt, too, but Frederic gestured for me to stay standing.
“Watch the trees. Let me know if you hear or see anything at all.”
I tore my eyes away from the arrows that peppered the man’s body, my fright holding back my tears as his blood ran over the mossy rocks. Where was the other guide?
Frederic stood beside me. “He’s dead.” His grim voice gave no hint of fear or grief, his focus on the danger confronting us.
I spared a quick look at the man. “He was an experienced jungler. And yet he had not time to call a warning to us. Who could have done this?”
“We need to find the other guide.” Frederic looked hopelessly at the trees around us.
I followed his gaze, forcing my sickened mind to focus and concentrate. “There.” I pointed to one side. “Someone has passed through there recently.”