The Ruby Prince: Book Two of Imirillia (The Books of Imirillia 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

and my own relationships. I have a life, far from your fortresses and your fens. And I have risked it all for my mother’s memory and to answer my own honor, but I will not lose my life for this.” He looked directly into her eyes. “As much as I respect you, Eleanor, Queen of Aemogen, you are not my guiding star.”
    Eleanor felt a blush, burning in her cheeks. “Then we understand one another, you with your loyalties and me with mine. Will you still hold to the promise that you will see me home?”
    “I promise that I will see you escape,” he answered as he stood and moved away. Without looking back, Prince Basaal pinched out the candles on the table with his fingers and left her and the pavilion in darkness.
    ***
    The prince had not returned before Eleanor fell asleep. When she woke, it was early, well before dawn. Eleanor looked to where the prince usually slept. But rather than seeing him sleeping, she found him standing silently in the hazy blue of morning.
    His back straight, weaponless, in simple black clothing—Basaal pressed his palms together before his face, the tips of his fingers touching his brow as he bent his head. He did not speak, although his lips moved in silence.
    As Eleanor’s eyes adjusted to the faint light, she could better see the expression on his face. It was one she had never seen before—or perhaps she had, not knowing what it was—an expression of patient devotion. Eleanor’s heart drummed an unaccustomed beat. She pulled her blankets closer around her body, quietly, so as to not disturb his prayer, but still she stared at the prince, the grace of his figure, the striking beauty of his face.
    Eleanor recalled the first morning that she had seen him in the Ainsley gardens, a memory both pleasing and unsettling. She had become so accustomed to his presence over the half a year that he had been in Aemogen. In the clarity of having just left sleep, Eleanor felt a sliver of emotion that she was not expecting, relief that he was well, relief that he was safe, relief that she was with him.
    She bit her lip, feeling a prickle of guilt for this admission. He had his loyalties, and she had hers. The conversation of the night before had served as a contract, reestablishing an unspoken distance between them. And the lines had been redrawn by Eleanor as well as by Basaal. But watching him this morning, Eleanor’s heart was not in it. She even tried to raise her anger towards him but found she was tired of the sentiment. Frightened by whatever it was that had caused her feelings to soften towards him, Eleanor determined to think more of Aemogen.
    Without opening his eyes, Basaal dropped to his knees, placing both hands over his heart. His lips did not move now, but his face expressed an emotion Eleanor could only describe as one of pleading. She looked down towards the floor, offering him the privacy he did not know he lacked. It was several minutes before Eleanor heard Basaal stir.
    Eleanor kept her eyes closed as she listened to him move about the pavilion. He sighed, and it was a tired sound—a lonely sound. At length, Eleanor opened her eyes. The prince again wore his black jacket with the gold buttons and was standing over the middle table, studying a map. After a few minutes, Basaal glanced up and met Eleanor’s gaze.
    “Good morning,” he said.
    “Good morning,” Eleanor replied as she sat up, pushing her blankets aside despite the chill edge on the air. “Did you sleep well?” she asked.
    “No,” the prince replied honestly.
    “Wil—” Eleanor began then corrected herself. “Prince—”
    “Just Basaal is fine,” he said, but his tone was difficult to understand. “Basaal is my first given name,” he explained. “Wiliam, or Wil, is one of my second names, given to me by my mother.” He returned to his work.
    “Basaal?” she asked. He looked up again, but there was no invitation in the look. “Nothing,” Eleanor said.
    ***
    The next morning, Basaal announced to