But I can’t fool Ophelia. She takes my hands in hers and pulls me close. “But tell me, do you love him? Does he make you happy?” she asks. “I don’t care that he’s a prince.”
I smile ruefully, hoping that I can still fool my younger sisters. “I’m happy enough. And I can… I can learn to love him, I suppose?”
Ophelia whispers in my ear. “I do hope so, my dear sister. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”
“We will see you at court!” Sonja says gaily.
“Take care of yourself, my dearest,” says Father, who’s leaning on his cane.
Bonnie comes to bid me farewell and promises to take care of the Raven’s Beak in my absence. She’ll look after the business until my father can find a buyer. I don’t trust myself to linger any longer after giving her a swift hug goodbye. If I stay one more minute, I might change my mind. Or cry. Both are bad.
When I hop inside the carriage and shed my cloak, I notice the prince staring at me with a small, pleased smirk. I smirk right back. Insufferable man.
“What?” I demand.
“I knew you’d change your mind,” he says.
My cheeks heat. “Shut up.”
“You’re not the type to refuse to come to someone’s aid.” I’m almost charmed, especially after everything we’ve already faced together. But then he adds, “Or maybe you just can’t resist me.” He leans closer in the seat across from me and waggles his eyebrows, and I’m back to being annoyed with him. Does he ever stop flirting?
“I said, shut up.” I don’t look out the window as the carriage starts moving because I don’t want to watch the town disappear behind me. I will not cry in front of Dietan, who is far too smug given the dangers ahead.
I lean against the wall of the carriage so our knees won’t touch. “Fiancée in name only, mister.”
Dietan raises his hands in supplication. “As my lady commands.”
Part Two
The Wedding March
Chapter Eighteen
Aren
Our journey begins in silence.
I watch the passing countryside change outside my window as the carriage bounces along the dirt path heading south from Evandale toward Loegria. The landscape is a pleasant distraction while Dietan reads a book on the other side of the carriage. After a few hours, I’ve already traveled farther than I ever have in my life.
The longer we’re on the high road from Evandale, the more the weather clears. Evandale sits in the shadow of a mountain far to the west, which collects rain clouds in its bowl-like valley. As we journey south, the skies turn from dark gray to silver, and then blue peeks out between bursts of sunlight, casting the land of Alarice into the golden beauty it’s known for.
Most of eastern Alarice is made of flatlands and fields, but dense forests darken the horizon, broken up here and there by farmland on the outskirts of towns, some of which are large or important enough to warrant a visit from a prince and his betrothed. Dietan has been briefed on the itinerary and tells me a bit about the places we’re going: one town is an important hub for fabric dyeing; another one grows a type of fruit that is all the rage in his capital. More than once, the carriage stops to let a herd of sheep pass by, and I throw bits of our snacks out the window to give them treats. Dietan seems amused by this.
I’m nervous about traveling all the way to the Great Waste, but at least I think my family is secure. Ophelia and Sonja’s futures are assured, and they, along with all of Evandale, remain under Lord Jared’s protection. Dietan left enough soldiers in town to ensure its safety.
“Will the Kilandrar return to Evandale?” I ask, still gazing out the window. Dietan looks up from his book—some kind of historical account of ancient battles—as if surprised I spoke to him at all.
“Only if I’m there. It’s me they’re after,” he says assuredly.
“How can you be certain?” I look straight into his blue-green eyes, searching for the truth.
“I can’t be. But I do know that once I left, the town became a whole lot safer.” Once the words leave his lips, I know he’s not lying. Safer because he’s not there to be hunted. Safer because Jared and a small army are standing guard. It’s a relief.
I still have to try my hardest not to imagine the Kilandrar bursting into our carriage in pursuit.
As I stare out the window at the endless fields trotting by, I’m still not sure what compelled me to accept his proposal. I certainly didn’t imagine in all my dreams that one day I would accompany a prince on a Wedding March through the kingdoms—and certainly not as hisbride. It’s laughable.
But he needs help, that’s for certain.
