In Deeper Waters by F.T. Lukens (best business books of all time txt) 📗

edge of the house, and his gaze flitted to the power glowing beneath Tal’s skin. He crossed the room and took Tal’s hand. Tal shivered at the touch, and he banked his magic, a glow of coals rather than a sparkling flame.

“Don’t be worried,” Athlen said, voice low, tugging Tal into the house and closing the door behind him. “Dara and her mother are very kind. They take care of me sometimes.”

“Athlen?” a girl’s voice replied. “Is that you?”

A curtain drew back, revealing a round-faced girl about Tal’s age with brown hair pulled into a knot at the base of her neck. She wore a plain dress and an apron, and stockings full of holes barely covered her feet.

“Dara,” Athlen said with a bright smile. He thrust the bag at her. “I have those things you needed for your mother.”

“Athlen,” she said, taking the bag. She opened it and sifted through the items. “How did you manage to afford this? What did you do?” The second question held a hint of accusation, but Tal couldn’t call the tone anything other than fond.

Athlen raised his hands. “Don’t worry. I traded for it. And Tal helped.” Athlen gestured to Tal in the doorway, and Dara’s gaze cut to him.

Tal endured her assessing stare, pulling back his shoulders, lifting his chin. Her gaze flickered to where Athlen gripped his hand, and the corners of her lips ticked down. Calmly she grabbed a fistful of Athlen’s large shirt and pulled him toward her. Athlen stumbled forward, and she slid smoothly between them, staking a claim. Tal immediately missed the comfort of Athlen’s hand in his own.

“Who are you?”

Athlen, who was oblivious, waved in Tal’s general direction. “He’s a prince. Oh, and he’s the one who saved me from the bad people.”

Dara’s expression flashed through myriad emotions before settling on a mix of gratitude and exasperation. Tal was certain the exasperation was meant for Athlen. Though Tal noted she didn’t appear shocked at all, as if Athlen brought home princes every day and didn’t follow rules of propriety with anyone.

“Your Highness,” Dara said with a bow. “Welcome to our humble home.”

Athlen rolled his eyes.

“That’s not necessary. He’s not that kind of prince.”

Tal raised an eyebrow. “What kind of prince am I?” It was the first thing he had said since they arrived.

“Not a fussy one.”

Dara smiled warmly and reached over to ruffle Athlen’s hair.

“Thank you for returning him to us. We were worried. We thought he was gone when he didn’t come back for weeks.”

Athlen batted her hand away, his cheeks flushed.

“I was happy to help,” Tal said politely. “And I was happy to help him again at the market.”

“Speaking of,” Athlen said, “will the items help her? Will they make your mother well?”

Tal heard a cough and a groan from the room behind the curtain. He shifted in his spot near the door and in the low light he could make out a figure on a cot along the far wall. The smell of fever sweat and sickness emanated from the area. Noting his inspection, Dara pulled the curtains closed.

“I think so,” she said, turning to a small kitchen table with a low bench seat. “I can burn the root in her room and make a tea. The salve for her chest will take me some time, but.…” She shrugged. “I hope so.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Tal asked.

Dara huffed. “There’s a sickness in this part of town.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“If you truly are a prince, I wouldn’t expect you to.” She didn’t face him, focused on her task at hand. “Or even care,” she added under her breath.

Tal stiffened but kept his composure. His mother would be glad to know that all the royal etiquette lessons had stuck. “Is there any way I can help? Any other medicine I might be able to procure for you?”

Dara wrinkled her nose. “We appreciate your assistance, Your Highness, but we’re fine. Please don’t tarry here on our account.”

“Are you certain?”

Dara leveled an intense glare at him. “You do understand how condescending that sounds, right?”

Tal raised his hands. “I only want to help.”

“Because of him,” she said, jerking her head toward Athlen. “But if not for whatever relationship you have with Athlen, you wouldn’t care about our situation. We’d only be a pair of peasants in your eyes.”

Tal crossed his arms, prickly at how correct Dara was in her assessment. “I care,” he said, defensive. “And I would like to help. That’s why I’m on this trip.”

Dara frowned. “Right. You just turned sixteen. It’s your coming-of-age tour of the kingdom. Just like your brothers and sister before you. I’m sure all the taverns and brothels they visited gave them a real sense of the people.” She slammed a kettle on the table. “You don’t look sickly, like the rumors claim. Maybe it’s because the whispers about magic are the truth. Are you going to be like your great-grandfather? Is our kingdom going to be paying recompense for the next several generations because of your actions as well? Are you going to burn the land with fire from your fingertips and salt the earth?”

Tal reeled. His face lost all color and he stumbled back, the heel of his boot catching on an uneven floorboard.

“Enough!” Athlen moved between them and faced Dara. “I know you’re worried about your mother, but that doesn’t mean you get to be rude to my friend.”

Face red, Dara pointed a finger into Athlen’s chest. “It’s not like it concerns you, either.”

“What does that mean?” Tal asked.

Dara’s gaze flickered between them, and Athlen quickly raised his hands.

“He doesn’t know?” she asked. “I thought he saved you from those people.”

Athlen licked his lips. “He did. And no, he doesn’t.”

“Ah,” she said with a knowing smirk. “You don’t trust him either. And you’d be stupid to. He’ll use you like those others did.”

Tal clenched his fists. His magic roared within him, licking up his spine in hot tendrils. “I would never hurt him. I made a promise.”

She