No.Her arms ached, her legs were chafed, her back felt like it was going to break, and to make matters worse, she was starving. Was she going to complain about any of that to Damien and risk further looking like some spoiled, weak noblewoman? Not a chance. “Couldn’t be better,” she said, her voice higher and squeakier than she intended.
Damien gave her a knowing look. “There’s a ledge ahead where we’ll stop for the night.”
The setting sun cast long shadows by the time they arrived at the ledge, which was barely large enough to set up camp for the night. They were so high above the ground that if Luna reached out, she could probably touch a cloud.
When Pickles stopped, Luna practically fell off the mare. Had Damien not grabbed her so quickly, she would have hit the ground. Her arms and legs were heavy and lifeless, but in Damien’s arms, she was in heaven.Curling against him, she pressed her head against his chest, comforted by the rhythmic beating of his heart.
“Why am I so sore?” she mumbled. “It makes no sense. I can heal quickly from a cut but not from sore muscles?”
He placed her beside a stream that wove across the small plateau and over the cliff’s edge. His touch was gentle as he helped her remove her boots, seemingly unaware of the effect it had on her.
“The nature of magic can be a finicky thing. Sore muscles mean you’re getting stronger, and strength isn’t something you can cheat with magic.”
Stupid magical balance being stupid.
Leaning back on her hands, Luna took in the view while flexing her feet, stretching out her toes. Now that she wasn’t suffering on top of the saddle, she could appreciate exactly how breathtaking the scenery was. Numerous shades of green stretched across the land, meeting the darkening skies with its twinkling stars far in the distance. The stream snagged starlight in broken ribbons—nothing like the still waters of last night’s black lake.
Damien scoured the rocky surface, pulling out yellow flowering plants and placing their leaves and shoots in a pile. Once he had enough, he washed them in the stream, rinsing away any dirt and bugs. When finished, he stuffed a handful in his mouth before passing the rest to Luna. “Rhodiola tastes awful, but it’ll help with the pain.”
Hesitantly, she grabbed some, took a bite, and gagged.
To say it was awful would be an understatement. The leaves were not only bitter, they also had a terrible aftertaste. Worse than anything she’d ever encountered—including Prince Kieran’s overly salty food prank.
Damien grabbed some bread from the leather pack and passed it to her. She set the remaining leaves aside, preferring sore muscles to eating any more, and scarfed down the bread, removing the last taste of the herb from her tongue. Once her stomach was content, she cupped her hands in the stream and drank deeply; the water was glacier-cold and refreshing.
Pointing east, Damien announced, “We’ll be out of Ghelvina soon. Kalt Ravine is just past this mountain.”
I hope there’s a proper inn there,Luna thought to herself. It’d be so nice to sleep in a bed again; perhaps restful sleep would help with the nightmares as well. Luna tilted her head, her blonde hair falling off her shoulder. “How do you know?”
He grabbed the blankets packed into the leather bag and carefully rolled them out, ensuring they were a respectable distance apart as well as far from the cliff’s edge. Once he finished, he said, “I’ve been there a handful of times. It’s the closest village to Eloria’s borders. You’re almost forced to pass through the ravine in order to go home.”
Home. Eloria was his home. . . And she was leaving hers behind.
She pushed the pain that thought brought aside, focusing on the other bit of information he shared. He had travelled this route before. Surprising, considering he used to have the ability to teleport. It now made much more sense why he was so confident that he knew his way.
“Where will we go once we get to Eloria?” she asked.
Assuming she was going with him and he wasn’t going to leave her stranded in an unknown realm by herself.
He lay down on the blanket closest to the ledge. “Aren’t you tired?”
“I’m practically dead,” she answered flatly as she lay down on the other blanket.
He snorted lightly, then replied, “The Kingdom of Shadows.” He spoke so casually it was easy to forget he was one of their royal heirs.
She supposed she should’ve guessed that, after all Harlow had called him the Prince of Shadows.
Shifting to cover herself with the blanket, she asked, “Is it nice there?”
He rested on his back, with his hands behind his head, and looked up to the sky. “There’s a curse where I live that prevents light from appearing in the sky. There’s no sun. No moon. Not even a single star . . . I’ve almost enjoyed being away.”
Luna cringed. What a miserable place—but she didn’t say that. Instead, she followed his gaze, craning her neck to gaze up at the stars as well. They twinkled; a million tiny dots sprinkled across pure blackness, and she wondered what kind of curse could steal them away.It must have been quite powerful.
“It isn’t so bad,” Damien continued. “Fire and magic can light the place up, and besides, utter darkness can be relaxing in its own way.”
“Is there a way to break the curse?”
“There are always ways to break curses.”
