The Sapphire Broach

Chapter 24 (rough draft)

Ivy watched Kenric's strength return over the next two days. His cough lessened, though it still remained, and he walked more each day. He also seemed kinder and she often caught him gazing her. His attention made her tingle inside and she always had to look away.

She woke up on the morning of their fifth day of travel with a sick feeling in her stomach that replaced all the good feelings of the past few days. Somehow she knew things would be different that day.

Kenric still slept, so she leaned her back against a fallen tree next to her bedding and tried to imagine her future. Surely the people near the palace would rejoice at her return. With the sapphire broach and her likeness to her mother, she would easily prove who she was.

She should have made a plan, but had none other than walking up to the palace, presenting the broach, and announcing herself. Perhaps she needed more of a strategy than that, but what? Kenric was an ex-soldier. He would know what she should do. She knew she could trust him, and he would believe her.

"Are you all right, Ivy?"

She looked up. She hadn't realized he had awoken, nor did she know how long he had been staring at her. His brow creased with concern.

She bit her lip. Should she tell him? Her heartbeat quickened at the thought. Aunt Maurie had always warned her to keep her identity and the broach a secret. But this was Kenric. There was no one she trusted more.

"Ivy?"

"Kenric, I am the—" She stopped. If she told him, he would chose to go with her instead of going home. Then what if something happened? What if the people did not believe her, or what if Rymond silenced her before she could prove herself? Kenric would be in danger, too. Who would care for his family if something happened to him? They had already lost his father. They needed him more than she did. She couldn't tell him.

"I-I am so grateful you are well," she finished.

He cocked his head and she knew he didn't believe that was all she meant to say. "I am too, but are you sure you are all right?"

"Of course." Then she realized something else that made the morning even more unbearable. "We will reach the turn-off to your town today, won't we?"

He was quiet for a moment, then crawled out of his bedding, rolled it up, and looked back at her. "Yes. I believe we should arrive there late this afternoon."

"Oh." She turned away from him, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. This moment had always been coming, but now that it was there, she didn't know if she could face it, especially knowing what might lay ahead of her. He had to go home, though. She knew it. His family needed him and he needed to rest and fully recover from his injury.

Her path was different. She had to continue on to the palace to face Rymond. She couldn't continue to watch people suffer—good people like Bonnie, Carl, and Kenric—because of his tyrannical rule, and she could not allow her kingdom to go to war against an ally kingdom that was twice their size.

"Please tell me what is wrong." Kenric slipped in beside her and put his arm around her.

She leaned forward out of his embrace. He would leave her that day. It would do her no good to yield to his comfort just to have him walk away. She started this journey on her own and she would finish it the same way.

"I am fine." She stood and gathered up her bedding.

"Ivy." He stood, too.

She continued working and refused to look at him.

"Ivy."

"What do you want from me?" Her emotions boiled to the surface and she turned on him with such intensity that he backed up a step. "Do you want me to grovel at your feet and beg you not to go? Because I will not! You need to go! It will be best for all of us."

"I have to go, Ivy. There are seven children depending on my return. Seven."

"I know that."

"They have already lost my father, and with me gone, they only have my mother. Do you know how hard his death was on her? She still morns for him. And raising seven children alone is not easy."

"I know that, Kenric!"

"Then why are you making this hard?"

She let out an exasperated scream. "You think this is hard for you? How do you think I feel? You get to return to a loving family who will welcome you and care for you while I march on to—" She clamped her mouth shut to keep from telling him everything, then turned away, grabbed Sweetie's reins, and walked off.

"Ivy!"

She heard him cough and hurry to catch her, but she did not slow down.

He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. "Why are you doing this? What is so important that you have to go to the palace, anyway? Forget about whatever it is and find somewhere to hide while the situation with the soldiers dies down. I could find a place for you in my town. I could—"

"No! Just stop!" She could hardly bare to look at him and couldn't seem to get control of her emotions. "We both knew what we were getting into when we chose to travel together. That time has come. You go on with your life and I will go on with mine!"

Kenric looked as though she had slapped him, but she didn't care—she couldn't care. She could not afford to be weak ever again. So, with her head held high, she turned away from him and continued forward.

Neither spoke the rest of their journey and they only stopped to eat. Far too soon the trail that led to Kenric's home drew near. They returned to the road when the paths intersected.

Kenric hopped down from Sweetie where he had been resting. Without a word, he separated their belongings, placed hers in one of the packs, and handed the pack to her.

She took it with a hammering heart. How could she say good bye to him? He was the most wonderful person she had ever met. She wanted him to hold her, to take her away from her fate, and to forever protect her. But she couldn't, so she turned and fled.

Or tried to.

He must have known she would do exactly that, because his hand caught her arm before she could get away. "You are not going to walk away from me without saying good bye."

She pressed her lips together and refused to look at him.

He sighed. "Ivy, please." Then he tilted her chin toward him.

Her chin quiver at his touch, and she blinked rapidly. Finally she looked at him. Reddish-brown stubble again lined his jaw, and his deep brown eyes gazed at her. They drew her in and pulled emotions from within that she had tried to hide—fear . . . and love.

"Good bye, Kenric," she breathed.

"Good bye, Ivy. Take care of yourself." He leaned in and kissed her cheek, then he took Sweetie and walked away.