Armed with this knowledge, I made the same offer to Charlotte, and she hesitated—then shook her head. “Prince Dane was correct. You should not be without a chaperone.”
I remembered how shocked she looked when Dane ordered her to join me. “Truly,” I said gently. “Dane should not have forced you to come at all.” I remembered the way my ladies were so terrified of Maddox Kyronan and what his visit could mean.
I shifted closer to her and dropped my voice. “I know you were afraid of the king and his soldiers.”
“Prince Dane did not force me.” The strength in her voice reminded me of the way she always stood strong in front of my brother, despite the other ladies, who would cringe. “And the king and his men have been...respectful.”
As she said the word, she glanced at the captain, who was fastening a buckle on his horse’s bridle. When he noticed her attention, he gave her a nod and a smile.
Charlotte lifted her chin, and her eyes shifted back to me quickly, but I couldn’t help but notice the sudden spot of pink on her cheeks. Before I could say anything, she gave a definitive nod. “I said I would remain by your side,” she says. “If you are to ride, I will ride.”
So now we’re all mounted, bundled up in borrowed gear. Ky didn’t want anyone to be able to discern our identities from a distance, and it makes me think of the way he wears the same scarred armor as his men. Charlotte and I had trousers in our trunks, but nothing appropriatefor twelve hours riding in the snow. Instead, we’re all outfitted in Incendrian leather and fur, right down to the breastplate that Ky helped buckle to my chest. These fur-lined trousers are too long, so one of his soldiers helped me tuck them flat inside my boots, showing me how to double wrap the laces so nothing would move. Even Asher has leather and buckles shaping his frame, making him take up more space than I’m used to.
There’s no trace of Astranza left on any of us—and I worry that’s an omen.
When I asked Ky if he intended to go back to Perriden, I wasn’t entirely sure what answer I was hoping for. I still don’t believe my brother would try to kill Maddox Kyronan—and after everything that’s happened, it’s obvious Ky isn’t trying to killme. But it’s clear thatsomeoneis trying to kill both of us, and continuing on this journey will keep us in danger.
The king and his men must think so, too, because we don’t ride as a group. Instead, his soldiers have worked out a complex formation where two men always ride alongside the king, one rides well ahead to play lookout, and two ride behind to watch for any followers. They change often, horses galloping point to point when they swap. Their movements are seamless and well-executed, and I can’t even tell what signals the change. I realize I’m seeing why Incendar might be the smallest country on the continent but Draegonis hasn’t been able to breach their borders.
The cold pierces every spot of bare skin it can find, and the chill in the air makes my lips ache. When a particularly cold blast of wind whips among us, one of the soldiers mutters a comment that King Theodore’s weather magic doesn’t seem very useful if it can’t grant us easier passage. I think it’s Callum, but I’ve begun to lose track of who’s who when they’re bundled up so tightly.
Ky snaps at him to be silent, but I’m glad I heard it. It’s a thought that hasn’t occurred to me, and it sets a wedge in my thoughts. Whywouldn’tmy father lessen the cold and snow to make it simpler for me to get to Incendar? Does he not care? Or is this a sign of his waning health?
Or could it be the opposite? When I saw him on the throne yesterday, he seemed weak, his skin pale. Is he trying to prove that he’s still healthy and strong? A show of force so Incendar knows Astranza isn’t powerless?
There’s certainly no one to ask. I can’t mention his status to Charlotte, and it would be impossible to have a quiet conversation with Asher—if he’s even willing to talk to me.
He suffered. For so long. And he never said a word.
Regret gnaws at my gut. I think about that woman on the mat, and I wonder if she’s treated the same way.
I couldn’t help her either. Not really.
Asher’s mood has been distant and remote, and he’s barely glanced in my direction since we left. It’s obvious the Incendrian soldiers still don’t fully trust him, despite the fact that he defended their king and saved my life. He’s no longer in chains, but when Captain Zale brought him a horse, the reins were knotted up, out of reach, and the captain wasted no time tethering the animal to Ky’s saddle.
I watched Asher absorb that, and he looked at the king. “You still think I’m going to run?”
Ky swung aboard his own horse. His voice was mild. “If you do, it’s going to be on foot. Mount up.”
I expected belligerence, but Asher obeyed, and he’s been placid ever since, only speaking when Roman rode alongside us for a while, grilling him about the Hunter’s Guild, asking about their training, their directives, their methods, their resources.
“How many of you are typically assigned to an order?” Roman would say.
Asher’s answers were brief, his tone clipped. “One. Hunters rarely work in pairs.”
“Never a team?” Roman pressed. “What about more detailed assignments?”
“We didn’thavemore detailed assignments.”
I’m puzzled by his sharper tone, his ongoing silence. But after hours in the saddle, I see him flex his shoulder and grimace.
Oh. He’s inpain.
My heart gives a tug. I want to approach him, but his words from last night are still haunting me, and he’s barely looked at me all morning. Every time I try to catch his gaze, his eyes skip away.
I don’t want your fuckingpity, Jory.
A distance has formed between us, and I’m not sure how to close it.
