Pebbles shifted underneath her feet as she made her way to Dell’s side.

“Dell,” she whispered. “This is…”

“I know.”

Sharp crags framed the cove on three sides with the ocean as the fourth.

Helena gazed out at the sun-dappled water as it rose and fell. The faint outline of ships marked the horizon. It was a busy trading zone.

She breathed in, imagining she could see all the way to Bela and the adventure awaiting her there. An adventure of magic and honor she’d never experience.

Instead, council meetings and palace dinners would make up the rest of her life.

“Have you ever thought of leaving?” she asked. “Of boarding one of your family’s ships and going to Gaule or Bela or even Dracon?”

“Every day of my life.” He sighed and took off toward the water, stumbling as he lowered himself to sit in the black sand beyond the pebbles. He shrugged off the cloak, revealing a torso striped with cuts and bruises. With a groan, he lay back.

Helena ran forward and dropped to her knees at his side. “Dell.”

“I’m okay,” he grumbled.

“Like hell you are.” Helena chewed on her lip. Her mother had taught her many things, but Sophia always demanded she stop at healer duties. A princess shouldn’t have to use her hands in such a way. What would Sophia have said if she knew of the knife skills?

“I’m just tired.” Dell’s eyes slid shut.

“No, Dell Tenyson. Do not fall asleep on me. Wake up, you idiot. What were you thinking riding all the way across the city just to show me the sea? I didn’t need to see it. Not when you needed a healer.”

A tear tracked down her cheek. What had they done?

“Don’t call me that,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Dell Tenyson. I’m not one of them.”

“Fine. Tell me what I need to do for your wounds.”

“Clean… they need cleaned.”

He must have meant his cuts. Helena took the discarded cloak and turned to soak it in the water. She held it above Dell to let the water drip into his first gash before wiping it.

A scream escaped his throat, and Helena froze.

“Dell, Dell are you okay. What’s wrong?”

“Salt water,” he croaked. “Burns.”

“Big baby,” she muttered, wishing Corban was with them. She didn’t understand his healing magic, but she’d seen enough to believe in it.

Dell’s voice cut off as he stilled, the only movement coming from his rising and falling chest.

Helena sat back on her heels. “Great.” She shook her head and continued cleaning Dell up.

There she was, the princess of Madra, alone, save for an unconscious boy she barely knew, watching the birds fly over the lonely sea. All she could think was how much she didn’t want to go back.

Chapter Thirteen