Captain Murphy nods once, slowly and deliberately, before turning to mount his own horse. My magic sparks again, ever so slightly, urging me to watch him intently. Urging me to pay attention to his appearance. Not just the outward, overly handsome soldier, but the barely perceptible sliver of who lies beneath. The person I have to uncover if I’m going to figure out how best to use him.
I spur my horse towards the iron gates, taking one last look around at the stone manor and its ivy-covered towers now fully illuminated by the shining orange hues of the morning sun. Acool breeze whips through my hair as it sweeps past, its path the same as mine: away from home.
The holy day means no foot traffic in and out of the capital city of the Emerald Region. We pass no merchants pulling wagons of goods or traveling bards to entertain us as we trudge through the dirt road that cuts through the Godswood.
The absence of any noise besides the sound of our horses’ hooves quickly becomes the soundtrack of our travels. Trees, trees, and more trees blur into a mass of greens and browns as we pass. My eyelids droop, heavy from the hours of sleep stolen by restless nightmares. The steady, rhythmic swaying of the horse lulls me closer towards unconsciousness with every step.
Captain Murphy’s gray mare stops suddenly, snapping me to attention. He lifts a single hand in command, the forest seeming to still around us. A low, foreboding growl echoes through the trees, the noise causing the horses to take a cautious step back, anxious to run but held in place only by each of our firm grips on their reins.
Another bated second passes before the source of the noise makes itself known. A large brown bear, nearly the size of my mare, prowls from between the trees, stopping and rising to stand on its hind legs in the middle of the dirt road. The animal’s beady black eyes are trained on us in warning. The air is charged, thick with anticipation of what comes next.
Instinctively, I raise my hand to rest on the hilt of the broadsword sheathed across my back. I have no logical reason to kill the bear. The Godswood is its home, after all, and I am the trespasser.
But something deep and primal within me wants to eliminate it. The dark side of my earth magic calling for the balance that I always deny it. I grant it life but never death, growth but never decay.
“I’m sure you know how to use those blades, but I doubt you can take down a fully grown bear.” Captain Murphy’s voice is stern but low so as to not disturb the animal before us.
I don’t take my eyes off the bear, choosing to stare straight into its black irises. There’s a war raging within me, a quiet battle between my head and my power. He’s right—I can’t take it down with my blade alone.
My mind races with a thousand solutions, all impossible without using at least a small part of my magic. If I’m going to tempt the bear to leave us alone without any bloodshed, I have to distract the captain.
“You’re right,” I concede, dropping my hand slowly from my blade. “You’re the highly-trained swordsman, not me. Do your soldier thing and run it off.”
“Mysoldierthing?” he scoffs. “You’re a princess. Can’t you talk to it or something?”
“I’m not a princess, and, in case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t some child’s fairytale story.”
“I disagree,” he says. “You’re an heir who sleeps in a godsdamn tower. That’s definitely princess shit.”
“While I’m touched that you’ve been thinking about where I sleep,you should probably focus more on the bear.”
Playing right into my hand, two brown heads peer around the corner of a tree.
“To your left, Captain. Just past the second birch tree. Are those cubs?” I whisper.
Captain Murphy turns his gaze away from the bear and scans the tree line. I seize the only second I might have and let my magic escape with a gentle flick of my wrist towards the thicket on our right. Red winter berries spring to life in the bushes several yards off the path.
The bear watches me intently, following the motion of my hand before giving a loud snort at the sight of fresh food. The sound draws the captain’s full attention back to the road and my only chance to use my magic without detection is now gone.
It’ll have to be enough.
“Go on now. Eat,” I urge softly.
Two balls of brown fur prance out from behind their hiding places and head straight towards the bushes, the mother bear following closely behind. When the animals disappear into the thicket, I finally exhale a small, shaky sigh of relief.
Captain Murphy shakes his head, murmuring as he urges his mare in slow, steady steps. “Fucking princess.”
CHAPTER 4
The common area of the inn is abuzz with patrons finished with their day of praying and eager to make offerings to Bastin, the god of revelry who delights in drink and pleasure. A fire roars in the corner hearth, enveloping me immediately in a sweet, welcomed warmth as I cross the threshold. I ache to shed my thick wool cloak but I don’t dare remove it.
Hidden underneath the hood’s emerald fabric, I am faceless—and I need to remain that way for as long as I can. Soon, word will spread that I’m traveling with the infamous captain rather than with the expected carriage and full entourage, but until then, I can simply be another unknown Emerald noble. The less I’m recognized, the better.
I make my way across the crowded room, carefully zigzagging between the tables to avoid swinging mugs of ale, when a hand reaches out to grab my wrist.
“You.”
My head snaps to find the owner of the hand, a man dressed in the cavalry uniform of Corinth, gray fabric trimmed in deep golden cords. I try to yank my hand from the asshole but hisgrasp only tightens. He leans in, pulling me closer towards his body, hatred etched into every line of his face.
