my needing to return to Mercia and become queen and his departing for Scania to take up the kingship.
“The men are eager to be leaving,” Chester said, his tone tight with impatience. Outfitted in his elite knight armor, he was an imposing figure. He’d proven himself to me time and again, even if he did still irritate me.
“I need a moment of privacy.” I straightened my shoulders and faced him, lifting my chin and daring him to resist granting me a final farewell.
He scowled. “Fine. One more minute.”
“Two.”
He heaved a sigh of exasperation.
“Alone, please.” I glanced to Aunt Elspeth and Aunt Idony.
Aunt Elspeth hurried across the room, fanning her flushed face. “Of course, dear heart, of course.” As she exited, I held back a smile. Surely the dear woman didn’t think I still needed a chaperone, not at a time like this.
Aunt Idony’s steps were slower and more calculated, and when she reached the doorway, she paused. “Your Majesty, a legend has been passed down amongst the healers who have come and gone from St. Cuthbert’s. The legend says that true love’s kiss is the strongest weapon for fighting the battle with death.”
“True love’s kiss?”
“If you truly love someone more than you love yourself, then a kiss filled with that love may have the power to bring life where there is none.” She bowed her head and then motioned to the few other remaining servants, who followed after her, leaving me alone.
Once the door closed, a sob slipped out before I could hold it back. I’d done well keeping my emotions in check, but now that I was alone and had no need of pretense, I could let my sorrow loose, couldn’t I?
I looked down on Kresten’s handsome face, his features so peaceful and relaxed, just as they’d been so oft when we’d spent time together. His lips even seemed to be slightly turned up into one of his winning smiles.
With a glance to the door to make sure I was alone, I lifted my hand to his cheek and traced the scratchy stubble there before I moved to his forehead and brushed a wisp of his hair back. Then I grazed his fine nose and tentatively skimmed his lips.
Did I dare kiss him?
I’d relived the kisses we’d shared in the woods dozens of times. They were embedded into my memory. A kiss now would be nothing like it. But I wanted to do it to say farewell.
I bent over him, leaning in toward his face until I was only a handbreadth away. His form under the covers was so still, so silent. And yet I could hear his laughter and teasing like a whisper taunting me with what could nevermore be.
After casting another glance toward the door to ensure privacy, I closed the distance and pressed my lips to Kresten’s. I expected them to be cold and lifeless and was surprised to find them warm and pliable.
I pressed both of my hands against his cheeks and kissed him more deeply, loving him with every breath and heartbeat. I thought I felt him respond, lift up, and move in tune to my kiss, but when I pulled away a moment later, he was as still and silent as he’d been since we’d laid him in the chamber.
True love’s kiss? The strongest weapon for fighting the battle with death?
I would try one more time. One more kiss. And in it I would pour out all the love for him I could. “Kresten,” I whispered. “You are the only man I have loved and will ever love. You have my heart, soul, and body.”
I touched my lips to his again, willing him to feel my love, to know how much I needed and wanted him. Again, as before, I could feel him stirring, his kiss melding with mine. At least, I didn’t think I was imagining it. I lingered, kissing him longer than I knew I ought to but hoping the kiss would awaken him this time.
When I pulled back, I kept my eyes closed, praying that when I opened them, his blue eyes would be peering up at me and he’d give me one of his easy smiles.
Slowly, I pried one eye open and then the other. Disappointment coursed through me. His face, his expression, his coloring—they were all unchanged. His steady breathing and the slow beat of his heart remained the same.
I stood, frustration rippling through me. So much for true love’s kiss. Aunt Idony’s legend was just that—a legend,