something special about the meeting I wanted to privately cherish for a while longer.
Besides, if I told Aunt Elspeth or Aunt Idony I’d met a man in the woods, they probably wouldn’t allow me to go out by myself again. In fact, they might even require me to stay home.
“I became distracted today,” I said hesitantly, “and I neglected to pick as many berries as I should have.”
“You’ll get more on the morrow.”
“Yes. I shall try.”
“Will the promise of a blackberry pie help motivate you?”
“It surely will.”
Aunt Elspeth loved to bake more than anything else. When she wasn’t behind her loom, she dwelt at the hearth, creating delicious tarts, jams, breads, or other goodies. She made more than we needed. Even Chester, with his mammoth appetite, couldn’t eat it all.
“I may even bake blackberry tarts if you find enough.”
I doubted I’d find enough to make a pie, much less tarts—not if I revisited the same clearing and met Kresten again. For half the way home, I convinced myself I would return to dance. But for the other half, I decided I needed to be content with one meeting.
Even now, the battle waged within me. My heart pattered with the strange need to see him once more. But my head reminded me of what was most important—staying secluded for the final two months of my exile. After so many years of success at evading Queen Margery, I couldn’t fail now, not when I was so close to the end.
I’d never understood her desire to slay me and take Mercia’s throne. Why did she believe she had more claim to the queenship than I did? During history lessons, Aunt Idony had tried to explain the predicament, detailing how my grandfather, King Alfred the Peacemaker, had divided Bryttania upon his death between his twin daughters. My mother, Leandra, had inherited Mercia, and Margery was given Warwick to the south.
From what I could tell, Warwick, with its rich gemstone mine, had been the better inheritance compared to Mercia, which had iron mines and smelters. I’d become even more convinced of that when I’d learned of the wealth Queen Margery had extracted from the mine. Only within recent years had the reports become negative, indicating the mine pits were no longer as productive.
Leandra had also been tasked with guarding three keys to an ancient treasure fabled to be buried somewhere in Mercia. Margery, on the other hand, had inherited the white stone, believed to be the most important ingredient in the alchemy process.
In my view, Margery ought to have been satisfied. But Aunt Idony had explained that Margery believed she deserved everything according to the laws of primogeniture that governed Bryttania. Such laws stated that the oldest son became the next ruler upon the death of the king. If no sons were available, then the power would pass to the firstborn daughter. Since Margery had come into the world several minutes before Leandra, Margery claimed King Alfred shouldn’t have divided the country.
Aunt Idony explained that King Alfred was known for his wisdom and for being a peacemaker. As such, people had trusted and accepted his decision to split Bryttania, particularly those who knew Margery and feared her leadership. They believed the king hadn’t wanted the older twin to rule at all. But unable to prohibit her, he’d done the next best thing by claiming the twins had equal rights. In dividing the nation, he’d insured its survival. Or at least, he’d hoped Mercia could stand strong against Warwick . . .
My mother had ruled Mercia well. She’d earned a reputation as a fair and kind queen. Since her death, my father had served as regent, ruling just as fairly and kindly. Now Mercia’s future depended upon me.
My aunts had spent years training and preparing me in everything I needed to know to become the next queen. And while I was eager for the challenge, doubts oft crept in to taunt me about whether I would be worthy enough, whether I could be the queen the people needed, whether I’d have enough fortitude, purpose, and courage to lead. After all, how could a young woman who’d been raised in the woods away from everyone have what was necessary to guide a nation?
Though I might doubt myself and Margery might call into question my right to be queen, Father and Aunt Idony had assured me Mercia’s people would accept me as their ruler. And the only way Margery could take away my crown was by force, which