Free Forget Me Not, by Juliann Whicker Page A

his
Lady Perr.
    “ I don’t believe you’re
supposed to smuggle me into the wilderness,” he said leaning
slightly towards her. “You’re supposed to convince me to return and
fight the Bashai with my army.”
    She shook her head,
raising her hand to brush her throat, covered in pale purple silk.
“That is the High Precept’s will, not my own.”
    “ What will you do, Hatia,”
he said, hands sliding together on the balcony until his arms
brushed her sides, “when the Barbarians descend in the spring,
burning, killing, destroying everything you love?”
    “ Not everything,” she
replied lifting her chin in spite of the uncertainty in her own
eyes. “The Elves will flee, abandoning Elsyria to its inevitable
ruin.”
    He tilted his head to the
side, his golden brown eyes looking mysterious and Elsyrian almost.
“Many will stay and die with the land.” He shook his head. “I only
waited to see you again before I returned to my people. Your eyes
are as stunning as I remembered. What are jewels compared to your
eyes, sparkling with life and…”
    “ Tears,” she said, closing
her eyes tightly. “You never used to speak so, of my eyes or any
other part of me.”
    “ Are we still bound by the
strictures and regulations from that time? If so, I should never be
here, gazing upon your bare face without appropriate paces between
us.” He pulled her against him, his arms iron bands around her.
“Tell me. What did Tharmul say to you that took you into the arms
of the Bashai?”
    Hatia struggled to breathe
evenly, her body brought up hard against his. She swallowed before
she could speak. “He said that you had asked for permission to
court me, that you were being executed.”
    Balthaar relaxed his grip
slightly on her, studying her face with a frown between his dark
eyebrows. “So you were fleeing to safety.”
    She shook her head and
tentatively reached up, sliding her hand along the side of his
face. “I wanted to be at your side, to die with you. It sounds so
foolish. What would a Barbarian want with an Elsyrian?” she asked,
frowning at him as she stroked his cheek, the soft skin around his
eyes to the roughness of his jaw.
    He grasped her hand,
stilling it. “I’m not actually Barabbas. I am possibly the most
barbaric person you will meet, however,” he said with a slight
smile before he turned his face and kissed her fingers.
    She inhaled deeply as his
soft lips caressed her flesh. “What are you?” she asked, her words
trembling.
    He raised his head to gaze
at her as if considering how much to tell her. “There is some
conjecture, however it is likely that I’m half dark elf witch and
power mad Elsyrian.”
    “ The Bashai and the dark
elves… Of course,” she murmured, cocking her head. “I saw some
engravings when I was a child, learned a few letters from Halthom.
He was always fascinated with them, but some said they were
mythical if not long extinct. So, the Emperor found them and
married one of them…” She frowned as she considered. Elves were not
known for their excessive breeding.
    “ And here I
am.”
    “ Just like that,” she said
with a slight smile before she sighed, leaning against him with all
of her weight. “I suffered through a hundred years of insanity
caused from thinking that you had been executed out of love for me.
What happened to you? Why did you join the army? Did you know that
the Bashai…”
    “ No,” Balthaar cut her
off, frowning at her fiercely. “I never knew you had been taken by
Bashai. I received a letter from your hand that you had received an
offer from an Elsyrian Lord and were going to become his bride. It
smelled of you, felt of you. I truly believed you were the author
of that letter that broke me and sent me running away from
everything that reminded me of you like a weak, cowardly
fool.”
    Lady Perr pulled away from
him. “I wrote a letter.” She shivered. “I was told that you would
be safe if I did.” She turned her face away from him,