“Ah!” His eyes light up. “You didn’t recognize my jewel outside?”
Sabine’s head cocks.
Folke points in the direction of the carriage driver outside—the quiet, slight soldier.
Sabine gasps. “I thought that soldier looked familiar!”
He grins wider. “She hates using her godkiss to make herself look like a man. Says we’re the lesser half of the species. Can’t say she’s wrong, either.”
Sabine hides a giggle behind her hand, and Folke rears back at the sight of her ring.
“Gods alive! Look at that rock! Are you crazy, entering the city with that jewel on your finger?”
Sabine quickly covers the ring with her other hand. “I forgot to take it off—it already feels like it’s a part of me.”
Folke leans back, pulling out a fat Wicked Weed cigar from his pocket. He lights the cigar, then motions it between the two of us. “So, you got hitched, eh?”
My chest swells a few inches. I nod. “A, uh, village preacher up north performed the honors.”
He snorts. “Sure, sure. One of those famous forest-wandering officiants. Don’t worry, I’ll tie up all the loose ends. This is good—it saves us a step. Planning a coronation and a wedding would have wreaked havoc on the poor archivists’ fingers.”
He takes a long inhale of the cigar, then offers it to me.
I shake my head.
“I’d congratulate you,” he says, “but we have a kingdom to keep from sliding straight into hell. With some luck, we can get this prison wagon through the gates into Hekkelveld Castle. Lord Kendan and the royal army still hold control of the castle—for now.”
Sabine peers through the window bars, studying the grimy streets. We pass a market with meager fare of rotted turnips. The pubs are packed with riffraff and those down on their luck, drinking down ale to numb themselves.
It’s still all new to her, I have to remind myself. After being locked away for twelve years, there’s still so much of the world she’s experiencing for the first time.
I feel a wave of tenderness—followed by protectiveness that burns like a brimfire.
Sabine could summon the ocean from its bed, but there’s still a part of her that’s my sheltered violet. Soft. Unweathered. And gods help anyone who tries to crush her under their boot.
“What news is there of Rian?” I ask.
Folke lets out a long line of smoke before replying bitterly, “We scoured the city for him. Every pub and warehouse and ditch. Best we can tell, he’s gone. Probably slunk through the sewers like the rat he is. We have reason to believe he’s headed for Duren. We’ve already sent spies there and posted more along the road, but they’ve reported no sightings as of yet. The plan is to get the crown on your head soon. With plenty of witnesses. We could do it as early as Friday.”
The prison wagon rumbles across a bridge, the river below reeking of human waste, and through the barred window I can make out the spires of Hekkelveld Castle high over the city’s rooftops.
“This whole area used to be a forest,” Sabine says suddenly, staring out the window with slightly glazed eyes, as if she’s a million miles away. “Alders, ash, silver birches. Once, there were warring packs of cloudfoxes here.”
The wagon falls into a heavy silence as Folke eyes her oddly. His gaze flicks to me. An eyebrow rises.
I give a nervous laugh. “Sabine’s been studying ancient history…hey, darling, can you try asking the city’s animals if they know of Rian’s whereabouts?”
It takes a moment for her attention to shift back to the here and now—to me. She blinks, seemingly unaware of her odd statement.
“What? Oh—of course, let me ask.” She goes studiously quiet, and after a moment, shakes her head. “Not according to the birds. So, Rian probably escaped through the tunnels, as you said, Folke. Once we’re in the castle, I’ll try asking the worms.”
We continue traveling through the city, uphill toward Hekkelveld Castle. From the driver’s seat, Ferra lets out a muttered curse, “Oh, hell in a wash basin!”
She can mask her appearance, but not her voice. No wonder she was so quiet.
“Ah.” Folke clenches the cigar between his teeth as he draws a miniature crossbow from a hidden compartment in the bench seat. “Careful, now. Might want to put your head down, Lady Sabine. We’re approaching Hekkelveld Castle and it’s a bit of a battle zone.”
Most of my weapons are hidden away back in Ranger’s saddlebag, but I draw the small knife I keep holstered in my boot.
