As the ship sailed, clouds dipped low over the sea. A thick fog sealed her vision so that all Erika could see was the wet wood of the deck, and native sailors working the lines. They hardly wore enough clothes to keep them warm. Bare-chested, their dark skin contrasted against the gray of the weather. The wind rushed the boat, and the warriors were skillful with the sail, so they made good time. The nearer to the mainland the boat came, the colder the air until snow fell on her shoulders, her ears, and nose, and she stood on deck shivering. No cabin offered shelter on the small dinghies that the Cho Nisi sailed, but they were seaworthy and took on wakes with potency unlike many of her father’s ships.

The men taking her home treated her with muteness, as cargo only, saying nothing to her and barely glancing at her unless mealtime came, and even then they handed her a bowl of soup from an iron kettle and moved on. Nursing a broken heart, she tried not to think about Arell. She breathed deeply, ready to go on with her life, to start anew.

No blame stained her thoughts, but she owed Rhea a thank you for telling everyone the truth.

The day after they left, the boat arrived in port Prasa Potama at dusk, greeted by a snow-dusted pier. The Cho Nisi sailors assisted her onto the dock, set her baggage in front of her, and then quickly launched again, sailing for their home.

No one greeted her in Prasa Potama, for she had informed no one of her arrival. She considered the hillside surrounding the city. How easy it would be to sneak off into the woods and disappear. A curious idea, except if she vanished her father would probably blame Arell, and that never-ending threat of war would rise again. Oh, the eternal and longstanding threat of war! Men always had to blame calamity on someone else!

Once off the dinghy, Erika picked up her bags and marched down the pier toward the buggy house. No longer a bustling port, winter weather had chased the merchants away save for a few food booths selling grub to hungry sailors. The aroma of their wares set her stomach rolling, excited for the first time that she would soon be in the castle’s safety, sitting at a table with a plate of wholesome food before her. The sound of civilization echoed with the clink of coins that jiggled in her purse. Not much, but enough for a carriage home. She assumed her status as a princess remained intact.

The cart-master, Clyde de Munson, sat calmly in his office, wood-burning stove sizzling, the stove pipe red hot when Erika entered. Absorbing the heat in a matter of seconds, her body relaxed. De Munson immediately dropped his journal and bowed. “Fairest,” he said.

“Good morning, Master de Munson. I need a ride home immediately. Have you a cart and driver that could get me to the castle in this snow?”

“Fairest, please warm yourself by the fire and accept my humble hospitality. I can have one readied for you immediately. My sincere apologies that it is not a royal carriage.”

“I accept your apologies. Any carriage will do. I just want to go home.” And shed this damp leather and soiled clothing. The smell of low tide seemed to have clung to her dress, and ice hung from her hem and her shoes. All she wanted any more was a hot dinner, a warm comfortable bed, and sleep. Much sleep. She thought she might sleep until summer.

She didn’t find comfort in the ride home, of course. The carriage hit every rut and bump that the frozen road offered. The jarring brought her back to reality, and she watched the frosty landscape reel by, each rotation of the wheels taking her away from the horror of the island and the love she lost. Once the carriage rolled onto the cobblestones of the courtyard and stopped in front of the stairs, servants hurried out of the castle and immediately assisted her. Pages ran ahead of her through the halls to announce her arrival. The housemaid, Miss Sylvia Prenson, curtsied.

“Your Highness, welcome home,” Sylvia said. A middle-aged woman, Sylvia had served the family for many years. She had tended to Erika’s mother before her mother’s death while in labor with Erika. Why, of all things, did Erika think of her mother’s death now but to add to the guilt that already burdened her. Miss Prenson took her bag and walked ahead of her.

“I still have a room, don’t I?” Erika asked.

“Of course, Fairest. You will always have a room. This is your home.” She smiled as she held the door open for Erika. “Your father loves you and he will be overjoyed to see you at dinner tonight.”

“I hope so. Could you prepare a bath for me? A nice hot one. It’s been a long journey.”

Sylvia bowed and left the room. Erika immediately pulled off her cloak, her armor, and her shoulder guards and rummaged through the closet looking for the most comfortable garment she could find, settling for a cotton chemise and a loose linen surcoat, an outfit she could wear for leisure and still be appropriate for dinner. She set them on the bed, took off her worn dress, and donned her robe.

Servants brought in the warm water as she waited by the hearth. They moved about swiftly and with an air of joy, giving Erika pause. What simple lives they lead. They go about their day obeying instructions, working together for her comfort. Never had she heard a complaint from any of her father’s servants. Rarely from a soldier either. Yet she, the king’s daughter, the most privileged of all, spent her life complaining and yearning for something she thought she needed and didn’t have.

And for what is it she wished?

Erika closed her eyes, and a tear leaked out. She wished for the love that Arell had given her. There had been no sweeter moment in her entire life than the time she spent with him.

“Fairest, the bath is ready,” Sylvia spoke softly, as though hesitant to interrupt her thoughts. Erika wiped her eyes and seeing that the other servants had gone, undressed, and stepped into the tub.

Sylvia poured warm water over her shoulders, rubbed oils onto her parched skin, and massaged her neck. “You had a hard time on the island?”

“I almost died, Sylvia. I have been a foolish youth, making one mistake after another. Count this the worst of them,” Erika leaned back as Sylvia rubbed her temples.

“We are all young once. I have often wondered how any of us survived,” she said, her wrinkled smile and bright blue eyes revealed as much wisdom as Chief Silas. More. Sylvia had a kindness about her.

“I’m sorry you had such a rough journey. Your father considered this trip dangerous for you.”

“Dangerous?” Erika sighed. “Is love the most dangerous trial in the world?” Erika breathed deeply. The oils Sylvia used refreshed her spirits and soothed her sorrow.

“I’m not sure what you’re asking?”

“Life gives each of us problems to overcome. Purpose, adventure, peril. But the trial of love I find to be the most dangerous.”

“Is there someone you fell in love with on Cho Nisi?”

“There is. Forbidden love. And now my heart will be forever broken, all because of my mistakes.”

Sylvia frowned and gently nudged Erika’s head back, washing her hair with soapwort scented with lavender. “Forever is a long time, Fairest.”

“Forever is the time it will take for me to heal.”

“You need a mother’s love,” she said sweetly, kissing her on the forehead. Sylvia had been Erika’s nanny when her mother died, and though Erika grew up more with her brother, she remembered the gentle years being rocked in Sylvia’s arms by the fire.

“Thank you, Sylvia, but I’m afraid it’s not a mother’s love my heart pines for.” Tears formed in her eyes as she recalled Arell’s embrace on the beach.

“Tell me about him, then.” Sylvia had Erika sit up in the tub and poured water over her head, rinsing the soap from her hair.

“He is tall, handsome, and has the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. Dark eyes, but not so dark as a cave. More like chestnuts in autumn.”

“His hair is dark as well?”

“Yes, the same color as his eyes. And his skin is as if he lives under the sun perpetually, but not creased or wrinkled like a sailor, instead smooth and luscious.”

“And his voice?”

“Soft. He speaks slowly and thoughtfully unless he’s being cynical, which he is sometimes. But looking back at his wit, I have to laugh. My words were as scathing as his.”

Sylvia grinned. “I can see that. So, you met your match, did you?”

Erika’s smile lessened at the words Sylvia used. Yes. She met her match, and she lost him. There could be no other!

“He’s gone, Sylvia. Love held us close for a fleeting moment and now it’s gone.”

“Oh, life might surprise you,” the woman tried to comfort her, to no avail.

She might as well have been severed in two by a sword. Her punishment hurt so painfully.

“Love can be as cold as ice when it’s annulled,” she whispered, her heart becoming stone, tears refusing to fall.

“Perhaps it still lives, my dear.”

“They will kill me if I return.”

“We cannot tell the future. Besides, you’re a beautiful young woman. There are many men who are equally handsome, who are not life-threatening. Perhaps your father knows of someone.”

Erika shook her head. Sweet loving Sylvia didn’t understand. The servant stood and unfolded a soft linen towel.

“There you are. Fresh and clean and smelling like the garden in spring. Hurry now and dry off before you get a chill. Your family is eager to see you and the cook is preparing a meal.” Sylvia wrapped her in a towel, and with another dried her hair.

“At this hour?”

“Your father requested it, yes, and he’s had everyone in the family paged. They are happy you are safe, my child, as am I.”

Sylvia pulled Erika’s bloomers out of her drawer and helped her dress. When the servant held up a corset, Erika shook her head. “No, not tonight, please. It’s just family and I want to be comfortable for once.”

“Very well.”

Once dressed, Erika dismissed Sylvia and took a moment to gaze into the polished bronze mirror on her vanity. She had aged. Oh, she still had the smooth skin of a young woman, and strength still coursed through her body, but something inside of her—a sadness—added years she hadn’t expected. Her wild drive to fulfill a purpose had faded. Sure, she’d fight again. More so than ever. How could she not with all the perils her people faced? But the hope for happiness remained somewhere in a castle on an island far away.

She turned and faced the ornately hinged door of her room and took a deep breath. She couldn’t imagine what sort of reception awaited her.