Princess Willowyn's Arc

Chapter 9 of 70

Willowyn woke before dawn. She stood at her window and practiced her water magic, drawing beads of dew from the vines below. She spun them into a ribbon, held it, then let it fall. Her hands shook. For four weeks she had watched the mortals mend their broken ship. Each morning it looked more whole. Each morning brought Kai's leaving closer. At breakfast her mother sat straight in her white gown, silver crown bright above her braid. Queen Elara spoke of the harvest, of the workers, of the day the mortals would finally sail. "Their ship is nearly done," the Queen said. "Soon our lands return to quiet." Willowyn nodded and said nothing. She feared her voice would betray her. She spent the day in the library. She turned pages without reading them. She watched the light crawl across the floor and waited for dusk. When the sky went gold, she carried water to the coast and slipped behind the fall of vines. Kai waited there. The white minx rode his shoulder, her fur pale as moonstone. He smiled, but his eyes were tired. "The hull is sealed," he said. "Two more days. Then the tide takes us." Willowyn's chest went tight. Two days. She had counted on more time. "Take me with you," she said. The words came fast, before fear could stop them. "I have skills now. I can find water, tie knots, live rough. I have dreamed of leaving these walls my whole life." Kai went still. The minx pressed against his neck. "You are a princess," he said. "Your people wait for you to heal the lands. Your mother told us of the prophecy the first night." He took her hand. "If you run, you leave that behind. And they will hunt you. They will hunt me." "I do not care about the prophecy." Her voice cracked. "You will," he said gently. "One day you will. A princess who abandons her kingdom cannot bring peace to it." He lifted the minx from his shoulder and set her in Willowyn's hands. The small warm body curled into her palms. "Keep her. She trusts you. Let her remind you why you stay." Willowyn held the minx and understood. He would not take her. He would not stay. The choice she wanted did not exist. "Then let me sail with you," she tried once more, quiet now. "No," Kai said. "And you should not ask again. If you asked and I said yes, I would ruin us both." The lantern light swung near the vines. Willowyn stood. She pressed the minx once to her cheek, then tucked her against her own gown. She looked at Kai a last time and made herself speak plainly. "Then I will not run. I will stay and become what my mother wants. But I will do it my way." She slipped to the path before the guard could turn. Two days. She had a kingdom to face, and now a reason to change it.