The itching under her skin was back, but this time just climbing out a window wouldn’t be enough.
“Let’s run away,” she said, spinning around in her chair.
Nadia laughed in surprise. “What?”
Lynet stood, so that they would be face-to-face. “You want to go south to the university anyway, don’t you? Let’s go now, together.”
She was flushed with excitement, practically rocking on her feet with the urge to go, to leave Whitespring and all her troubles behind. She didn’t understand why Nadia was frowning at her like that, why she was shaking her head.
“You can’t just leave.”
“Yes, I can. People do it all the time. Why is everyone else allowed to come and go as they please except for me? We can go to the university, just like you planned.”
“No,” she said, and Lynet was startled by the harshness in her voice. Nadia seemed startled too, because she shook her head and added in a softer tone, “I mean … it’s a long journey, even a dangerous one. The roads aren’t always smooth, and there are thieves who hide in the woods. You’ve never even been outside the castle.”
Lynet bristled as she understood Nadia’s meaning, her hands twisting at her skirt as she tried to keep composed. “You’re saying I’m not strong enough to survive outside Whitespring,” she said. “You don’t think of me any differently than the rest of them do. You think I’m too delicate to survive anything.”
Nadia wouldn’t look her in the eye. “Lynet—” She was interrupted by a furious pounding at the door, and she ran to answer it while Lynet tried to make herself small and invisible.
Nadia opened the door, and Lynet heard a man’s voice say, “You’re needed at once. The king’s had an accident.”
14
MINA
“I want to ask you something,” Nicholas said.
“Of course, my lord.” Mina tried to keep her voice low—a difficult task, since Lynet was splashing her hands in the freezing lake. Mina had been worried that he would try to avoid her after their tryst in the throne room, but soon afterward, he invited her on another lakeside stroll—with Lynet as chaperone, of course.
“I’d like to invite you to dine with me tomorrow night, somewhere more private than the Great Hall.”
Mina was glad he wasn’t watching her; she couldn’t help a satisfied smile. “I’d be honored, my lord.”
He finally turned to her. “I don’t want you to be honored. I want you to be pleased.” His voice was gruff, but from the flicker of worry in his eye, he seemed genuinely concerned.
Now Mina allowed him to see her smile. “I’d be pleased, then. I … I enjoy our time together.”
“As do I,” he said. “And so does—”
But he didn’t need to finish the sentence: his eyes went straight to Lynet, who was now nearly waist-deep in the lake.
“Lynet!” he called. “Don’t go so far into the water!”
Lynet stared at him for a moment, and then she went right back to splashing in the lake.
“Lynet, I won’t ask again.”
This time, Lynet ignored her father completely.
Nicholas sighed. “She’s always testing her limits.” He went to retrieve his daughter, lifting her from the lakeside and carrying her away.
Lynet didn’t respond well; she started thrashing like an angry cat, kicking her feet in protest as she tore at her own hair.
Mina watched this entire display with fascination. Would Nicholas scold her for her disobedience? Would he punish her in front of Mina, or would he wait until later? What form would his anger at his daughter take?
But Nicholas just laughed at her tantrum. It was the first time Mina remembered ever hearing him laugh, making it all the more unexpected. “My little bird is trying to fly away,” he said, tightening his hold on Lynet playfully, “but I know she wouldn’t want to make her father sad. Isn’t that right?”
His words seemed to placate her, or maybe she was just exhausted from fighting so hard. She shook her head.
“Well, then she should do what her father says. But first, she should give him a kiss.” He gave her his cheek, and Lynet pressed her lips against it noisily.
Mina observed them with a growing resentment she didn’t understand. She hadn’t wanted to see Lynet punished, exactly, but now she kept wondering why. Why wasn’t he punishing her, when other fathers would? Why did Lynet deserve to have that luxury when so many others didn’t? But there was no reason; there was only Lynet’s squeal of delight and her father’s look of devotion as he set her down.
“I think it’s time for you to go back inside anyway,” he said to Lynet. “I have to meet with the council shortly.”
Lynet clutched her father’s leg and shook her head. “Stay.”
“I can’t stay, and so neither can you,” he said fondly, ruffling her hair.
“Mina can stay.”
Father and daughter both looked at Mina at the same time, one uncertain, the other hopeful. Mina didn’t know how to answer—she didn’t want Nicholas to think she was overstepping her bounds, but if he decided to trust her with Lynet’s care, that would speak a great deal to his opinion of her. “Only if you’d allow it, my lord,” she said. “I’d be happy to watch over her for a little longer and see her to her room.” The words slipped out so easily that she didn’t even wonder if they were true.
Nicholas deliberated briefly, then nodded. “All right, Lynet, you can play a little longer, and then Mina will take you back inside.” As Lynet let out a high-pitched cheer and ran toward the trees, stumbling over her small feet, Nicholas said to Mina, “Not much longer, though. I don’t want her to tire herself.”
Mina didn’t say that Lynet seemed to have enough energy to play for hours. “I’ll watch over her very carefully, my lord.”
“I must go now,” Nicholas said. “But I’ll send someone for you tomorrow evening.”
Yes, that was right—he had invited her to see him the next evening. “Until tomorrow, then, my lord,” she said.
“You called me Nicholas last time we spoke,” he said softly. “I wish you would do so again.”
“Until tomorrow, Nicholas,” Mina murmured.
He watched her a moment longer, and then he stepped toward her and said, “I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”
There was no foresight or guile when Mina smiled—she simply smiled because his words had made her happy. And even when he left, she was still happy. He had invited her to see him, not because Lynet had asked or because he felt duty-bound, but because he wanted to see her. He wanted her.
Mina wandered closer to the garden to keep better watch over Lynet, who was running in circles around the trees and shouting to some invisible friend or enemy, Mina wasn’t sure which.
Mina was tense, her arms crossed, ears ringing from Lynet’s shouting. Now that Nicholas was gone, she had no reason to pretend to herself that she wanted to watch over a spoiled child whose father never punished her for anything. How nice it must be for Lynet to live in a world where father was only ever a happy word, to play at fighting imaginary threats, because she had never known any real ones.