Quickly, he pulled away. A smile had returned to his lips, but it read as fake. “Let’s give it another try, shall we?”
She had never wanted to do anything more and less at the same time.
Chapter Twelve
The trees were shrinking.
The sky-reaching sentries Vi had grown up playing and living in, the behemoths that had been at once a prison and playground and home, were slowly vanishing. It took Vi longer than she wanted to admit to notice, but when she did, it was all she could obsess over.
First, the canopy thinned, admitting sunlight to warm her cheeks. The feeling struck her oddly, but she didn’t make much of it. But then that same canopy looked as though it would come down right on her head—the trees shorter than she’d ever seen them. Finally, they disappeared altogether.
The North ended, and the West began.
Back during the War of the North, Western Firebearers had maintained the border actively. Now, just like the ring around Soricium, those scars left by man remained etched in nature, where jungle met desert.
Vi blinked into the oppressive sunlight, raising a hand off her reins and shielding her eyes.
“Welcome to the Western Waste,” Andru said from her right. He hadn’t said much since he’d ridden up in the morning, but Vi had appreciated the quiet companionship of her steady friend.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much sky.”
“Just wait until you see the view from the pinnacle of the palace in Solarin. The way the mountains carve a jagged line is stunning.”
“I think this sky is impressive because it’snotchopped up.” Vi swept her gaze across the desert. Like an alabaster snake, the Great Southern road wound through the dunes and cut across the sand, giving a solid path for their horses and boots in an ocean of gold.
“I can see how that would be a change for you.” Andru shifted in his saddle, avoiding her gaze. “But I assure you, you’re in for something magnificent this winter. When the mountains are covered in snow, they mirror the clouds in the sky and it’s like a never-ending horizon.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Vi said softly, hoping he didn’t notice the sorrow that had crept into her voice. She would never see that winter.
“Speaking of returning home, princess…” he continued, blessedly oblivious to her struggle. She’d been waiting for this. Vi knew what was coming before he said it. In fact, she was surprised there was still a good hour before they broke for camp for the day—he’d worked up the nerve in record time, knowing him. “I think you should make up with your brother before we arrive.”
Vi sighed heavily. But before she could even try to find an explanation for why things were tense, he hastily continued.
“This is what you’ve both always wanted. You each hold one another in such high regard… All you spoke of was seeing each other, talking, being reunited at long last, having the opportunity to learn of each other in person.
“He won’t tell me what caused such an immediate rift but I assured him—as I’ll assure you—that I think it’s completely natural for there to be some growing pains since you were raised apart and now are learning to be together in person. You may have formulated opinions in your head that are different in reality. I know that’s true of him.”
She allowed him to finish. Andru wasn’t the lecturing sort and she was certain he’d been practicing this little speech. The least she could do was hear him to the end.
“Plus, you don’t want the Senate to see any rifts between you both.” Andru’s voice dropped lower. “They’ll find a way to capitalize on any perceived weakness, use it to cast doubt. I know my father would find every way possible to twist even the most innocent sibling squabble into something sinister. Being at odds will be good for neither of you.”
“I know,” Vi said, her voice just as soft. She looked over the blinding desert, lifting and adjusting the headscarf Jax had given her the night before to shield her face from the sun’s assault. “Tell me, Andru, do they love Romulin?”
“The Senate? Or the people?”
“Both.”
He thought a moment before speaking. “The senateunderstandsRomulin. It’s no secret between us or anyone that the Senate is uncertain about what they want the future of the crown to be.” Vi resisted a retort that would do her no good. “But Romulin is a known entity—a safe bet, someone they can work with. Even if the Senate doesn’t consolidate power further, they can fully trust the person on the throne.”
“They don’t see me as a safe bet.” It wasn’t a question, so Vi didn’t phrase it as one.
“I don’t think they would’ve sent me if they did,” Andru agreed solemnly. “Apologies, princess.”
“You’ve nothing to apologize for.” Vi shifted in her saddle. “And the people?”
“Oh the people—court and commoners—love him immensely. They see in him the blood of your grandfather and great grandfather. Some say he has the wisdom of the last King Solaris, the strength of the first Emperor Solaris, and the kind demeanor of your late Uncle Baldair.”
“All very strong, very Southern men,” Vi murmured. A small smile graced her lips as her gaze focused on the flaxen haired man in question. It was good he had that much love. There would be much he’d need to bear in the coming weeks. Luckily Romulin’s shoulders were wide and they could handle the weight, she hoped. “The people’s approval would go far with the Senate.”
