I’m not surprised. Alek wouldn’t make it that easy.
But it leaves me ungrounded, because Alek has done such a good job of turning any suspicionawayfrom himself. I have no proof. I’m not even sure I have Grey’s trust any longer.
Grey isn’t one to stand on ceremony, so there isn’t much fanfare when he arrives, but his presence in the castle is impossible to ignore. Even if I can’t go directly to the king, Rhen takes my concerns seriously, and I see that he’s assigned additional security to any spaces Grey might linger. Lord Alek is never left to linger alone. Syhl Shallow guards suddenly line the hallways along with the Royal Guard of Emberfall. The languages of both countries can be heard in the Great Hall, on the training fields, in the arena.
If the queen were here, I know she’d be admiring the occasional sense of unity, of collaboration and trust.
She wouldn’t be ignoring the undercurrent of tension. The words muttered in Syssalah or Emberish when backs are turned. The exchanged glances between guards, underscored with distrust.
I doubt the king is ignoring it, though I have no idea. He’s been here for days, and I’ve been keeping my distance. The competition has started, so he’s always surrounded, always busy, always with both Rhen and Jacob and a dozen guards at his side.
The tension, thewaiting, is terrible. I keep watching, expecting a trap to be sprung, for Alek to make his move.
But he doesn’t. He’s cordial. Polite. The perfect courtly gentleman, enjoying a bit of sport on the field.
By the fourth day, nothing has happened, and I begin to doubtmyself. I’m sure Grey knows the source of my concerns by now, and the daily lack of any true danger must seem like one more failure on my part. The competition fields have turned to foot races, which I don’t care to watch. Instead, I head for the stables, which are mostly deserted, to fetch Mercy.
To my surprise, I find Prince Rhen there as well, feeding his horse a caramel. He’s still dressed in palace finery, which he’s worn to the competition every day. Palace guards from both countries are on duty in the aisle. I’m so startled that I stop short in the doorway, my eyes seeking Grey.
Rhen notices my expression, because he gives me a knowing look. “Don’t worry. The king is expected to watch the competitors, so you’ve got a few hours of safety left.”
I inhale to protest, but he’s too savvy—and I’m not one to lie. “Am I so obvious?”
“Yes.” He holds out a handful of candies. “Here. For your mare.”
Before I’ve even taken them, Mercy has her head stretched out ofher stall, reaching for the sugar, as if she can inhale them from ten feet away. I feed them to her, then tether her to fetch her saddle.
“Were you going somewhere?” says Rhen.
I nod, then shrug. I’m not sure how to admit that I couldn’t keep waiting for … nothing to happen. I wonder if he’s feeling the same. A flicker of guilt pulls at me. “Nowhere of consequence. You?”
“A destination may be more prudent.” He pulls open the tack closet beside his horse’s stall. Much like Grey, when it comes to horses, Rhen isn’t one to pass on the care of his mount to another. “Either way, I’ll join you if you don’t mind the company.”
I hesitate, trying to figure out his tone.
I must wait too long, because he stops with a saddle hung over one arm. “That’s not an order. If you prefer the solitude, simply say so.”
Idoprefer the solitude—but I’ve discovered over the last few weeks that I don’t mind Rhen’s company either.
Then I notice something else: he’s armed. A sword hangs at one hip, and a dagger is belted to the other. Maybe it’s for appearance’s sake, since he’s been at the king’s side all week.
But … maybe it’s not.
“I welcome the company,” I say.
“Good.” He slips the saddle onto the back of his buckskin. “Do you know the forests north of the castle? There’s an old clearing a few miles beyond the creek. Nearly half an acre of fresh clover. A good spot to let the horses graze.”
“I know it.” Barely. I’ve seen it once or twice. I think.
Rhen smiles, then buckles the girth into place. He looks to his guards. “You will remain behind. Tycho will be adequate defense.”
I stop with my hand on Mercy’s bridle. “Your Highness, are you certain that is a wise—”
“I’m certain you’re about to be left behind.” He slips a bridle on hisown horse’s head, then leads the animal out of the stall. Without hesitation he swings aboard.
Then he’sgone.
I lose a moment to shock. Another to the buckles on her bridle. She’s already tugging at the reins.
