Marcus and his soldiers keep their eyes on the shadows, where bandits might hide within the barricade. We skirt the edges of the roadblock without incident.
Anxiety tastes like iron on the back of my tongue.
Or that could just be the fact that I’m gnawing nervously on my cheek.
“Halfway there,” Marcus says, suddenly appearing at my side.
I jump. He moves as quietly as a cat.
“Stay alert,” he adds.
“Do I look like I’m not?” I attempt a grin.
“It’s my job to keep you on your toes. Keep an eye out.”
I glance behind me at Dietan. He simply nods, reassuring me that everything will be all right. At least we’ve made it this far.
We pause for brief break. A few loaves of bread and waterskins are passed around. The things I would do for my kitchen and a hot meal right now.
None of us bother sitting. We huddle together on the side of the road, our bags secure between our feet as we stand in a tight circle.
Dietan breaks his loaf in half and hands a piece to me. I muster a smile and thank him.
“Here. Come see,” he says, pointing to a gap in the buildings, where there’s a narrow view of the canyon below us.
Dawn breaks over the canyon. In the night, it looked like a river of shadow, but in the brightening daybreak, the canyon is a muted ribbon of pink and gold. The rocks below gleam like starlight, their faces as sharp and beautiful as diamonds. The wind strikes the canyon at an angle and sends eerie music up the rock walls, like blowing on the lip of a bottle, like the world itself is singing.
The sunrise warms my face, and I can’t help but let out a tiny gasp as I take in the view.
It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
“Not bad for a death-defying journey,” Dietan says, glancing at me with a soft smile that makes my heart skip a beat. The brilliant light of the sunrise reflects off of the prince’s perfect features, illuminating him in an ethereal light. It’s maddening how handsome this man is.
The wind blows a strand of my hair free from my cap and into my face. He reaches out to brush it away when a woman’s voice cries out from ahead. “Pickpockets! My coin purse is gone!”
Instinctively, his hand goes to the small of his back where his knife rests, and disappointment washes over me.
“We shouldn’t stay here any longer than we have to,” Marcus says, striding over to us. “Get ready to move.”
I steal one last look at the view. I’m transfixed by the combined beauty of the canyon and Dietan. I make myself a silent promise: when times are better, I’ll come back here to see sunrise again. Possibly with Dietan by my side…
But then I remember that I mustn’t feel hope where he is concerned. He’s just pretending to care about me. That was the deal.
…
After several uninterrupted hours, something strikes me in the back of my shins.
It’s a child’s red ball.
Two floppy-haired boys in ragged clothes chase after it through the crowd. They laugh and weave between the travelers. Even here, with war looming, these kids have found a moment of joy—a chance to just be children.
Dietan picks up the ball and holds it out to the smallest boy, who laughs behind gapped teeth. I don’t remember a time where I was ever that carefree.
“Thanks, sir,” the boy says, running a quick lap around Dietan.
A flash of movement catches my eye—the boy’s hand reaching for his dagger, slipping it from its sheath. But Dietan is too fast. He spins, quick as lightning, gripping the boy’s wrist and retrieving the blade. “Good try.”
“Don’t know what you mean, sir.” The boy sniffs.
