But despite aching muscles, restless nights and food of questionable quality, I am secretly happy for the company. I have companions who switch guard with me, share meals and thoughts. That part rocks - the talking.
And the book he lent me? Innovative. We spent evenings discussing the imaginative ways of the Fae in that story, the dances, the bonfires. I think I will make it a theme for my birthday once I am crowned.
I don’t even hate Aidon in my mind, though he stalks my steps like the creep he is.
Yeah, now you only hate yourself.I furrow my brows at the Simon’s comment, but don’t close my diary.
See? Progress.
The space between my ears isn’t so terrifying anymore.
I still grin when I think about Riven’s words when they found me in that monstrosity.“Rowan wanted to pass it on; he indeed was able to touch his fingertips from the inside of his skull.”
The greatest romantic gesture in history.
Aidon and Jestin had plenty to say about the incident, but after the General’s reaction, I don’t need them.
That’s why I put my bedroll as close to him and his second as possible without looking too clingy.
And his crew?
Gorok took my tongue away upon meeting them. Being all grown up, I certainly understand Trisha’s appreciation for the way their upper backs flex when they stretch their wings. Especially Riven’s, when he’s showing me how to use my muscles correctly while we train. Fortunately for me, we haven’t touched wielding yet. He says I need some foundation first. I’m certainly pleased about that; I wouldn’t be able to focus on my power without destroying the whole fucking army while they look like lollipops.
Distracting...
Harem of Dragthralls… Once it’s all over, I’ll hint at the idea to the bookshop in Tricity. Maybe even order my dear mommy to help with that.
That’s all she’s worth after all: debauchery and controversy.
To my profound despair, they flew towards Hanovel to call the army together.
Are you jealous your mom doesn’t have any duties to the crown?Aidon muses in my head. Always muses. As if his life’s work was writing my memoir.
The power skipped her. She’s lucky.
I can’t wait to share the wonder of your mind with your dearests once you recognise them.
Whatever that fucking means.
I ignore him, getting better at shrugging off his filthy sarcasm and keep scribbling.
Tomorrow, we will finally approach the border of the Mystic Forest. We are camping close enough that the silhouette of the trees haunts my vision, although we’re a safe distance away.
I’m a bundle of dread and anticipation.
“Having second thoughts?” Aidon asks out loud, bringing me to the scrutiny of others.
Are they paying him for it?
I look around the camp. Worried faces huddle among bedrolls and fire pits scattered across the dusty, sun-baked ground. Sparse shrubs claw at the sand, and beyond them the forest looms like a patient beast waiting for nightfall.
“It’s too late now,” Riven says, lifting his gaze from where he sits with Bane. The space between his brows knots as he wipes his already spotless axe on his leather trousers. His face wrinkles as though the blade is the only problem in the world that needs fixing.
He takes better care of that weapon than I do of my lady parts.
To be fair, there are no bathhouses here.
“I’m not quitting.” I shake my head, set my diary aside, and cast a glare at Aidon—currently sprawled beside Nulok on a log. His half-lidded gaze meets mine, utterly unbothered.
