“I’m fine, Wren.” I stare ahead because if I look at him, I’ll break. “I can do this.”
Dax falls in step on my left, his horse snorting as if it wants to run wild through the trees. “We know you can, Little Captive.”
I grip the reins as if my life depends on it, apprehension and determination leaving no room for fear. “John will burn Rygard until he finds me.” Finally, I look at Wren, and I see it… A word from me, and he’ll turn right back and take me home. Unacceptable. “Every death will be on my conscience. I could never live with that.”
“No, you couldn’t.”
His quiet agreement reminds me so much of the little boy he was, who would visit me day after day, month after month, for eight years, desperately trying to convince me I had the courage to leave the tower. I never dared to believe him—until the day that soldier murdered his mother and pushed him too far. On that day, something changed in both of us. That day, he wouldn’t be denied when I refused to leave. But that day…
That day, I finally believed I was strong enough to leave my prison.
And today—this day—I know I’m strong enough to defeat a king.
“There is only one death I want on my conscience,” I whisper, and for a moment, I fear I spoke so low, no one but Quinn could hear me.
But Wren says, “Then get us into Newkirk so we can help you do it and put the fucking crown on your head.”
ChapterNine
Took long enough, but the early morning drizzle finally gave way to the afternoon sun. With the clouds gone, the dry, warmer weather makes our trek across the rugged southwest corner of Rygard somewhat pleasant, given the circumstances. The goal is to get to Lansing by midday tomorrow. It’ll take hard riding, and truth be known, I expected Rapunzel to have a few complaints by now.
She proved me wrong.
We’ve been traveling for hours, stopping only once—briefly—to stretch our legs and devour a quick meal. Then it was back in the saddle and on our way, whipping wind and all, to maximize the daylight.
The combination of damp clothes and sitting all damn day in a fucking saddle chaffed my balls. So much for my unholy healing ability. The constant friction negates the expedited recovery process. I blame John for this discomfort, of course. We shouldn’t be here. We should be at Dyhurst. I should be on the lists enjoying a leisurely afternoon beating the shit out of Wren or Dax. Preferably Dax. Instead, my balls are cold and chaffed. We’ll be sleeping on the ground, freezing our asses off rather than tucked into a warm bed after an evening spent fucking Rapunzel.
I don’t even get to ride alongside her. That pleasure is Wren and Dax’s, the lucky bastards. Their duty is to protect her. My function is to protect usall. I see what they can’t. Hear what they don’t. I’ll detect a threat long before they can. Therefore, it’s my job to take the lead. I’ve occasionally dropped back, though. I had the privilege of viewing Rygard through Rapunzel’s fascinated eyes each time I did.
How she adores this land.
While at Dyhurst, I had a false sense of isolation. The months there made our war with John deceptively personal when, in fact, this entire kingdom will suffer should we fall.
Failure, however, is not an option.
John is already dead.
We just haven’t killed him yet.
Now that we’ve cantered past the twin towns of Leighton Falls and Haversville—the latter of which is still being rebuilt after John’s soldiers destroyed it months ago—I relax a bit. I nearly died there and can still taste the fucking poison from that tainted blade that slid across my throat. But we’re in open terrain now, and I scan the distance, detecting no threat. The occasional curious critter scampers by, and although I can catch them and make a meal of them, I feel benevolent. We’ll make do with the provisions Bryce provided us. I’ll let those animals live another day.
With the sun just now beginning its descent and Turner Forest still far off, I maintain a quick pace. Last thing we need is to get caught out in the open come nightfall. We’ll camp in the woods, then do a hard push in the morning for Lansing Village. The Cup and Crown is the halfway point between Dyhurst and Newkirk Castle. Although Rapunzel is nervous about meeting Dax’s mother, we’ll rest at her tavern for the night and replenish our supplies before making another relentless drive for John’s court in the northeast corner of Rygard.
With one ear on the surrounding landscape to listen for impending danger, I keep the other on the quiet conversation behind me. Rapunzel’s melodic voice soothes me. Quiets the constant rage simmering within me. She is sunlight to my darkness, and while she’d likely claim it has all to do with the magic of her hair, she’d be wrong. The woman herself is a marvel. Serene. Brave. Capable and determined.
Stubborn to a fault.
Rapunzel is everything I never thought I deserved but silently wished for.
“…if she hates me?”
I catch the tail end of Rapunzel’s question, and I tilt my head to better hear what’s said between her, Dax, and Wren.
“Adele Stafford hates almost everyone, but she’ll love you,” Dax assures her.
The ornery woman has the temper of a dragon, but with family, Adele has quite the soft spot.
“How can you be sure? She doesn’t know me. What if she hates me because of my father?” Rapunzel presses Dax.
