I consider my very first impression of King Maddox Kyronan, the way he stood in my chambers and faced me, somehow knowing that I had a weapon hidden in my palm.
The king must sense the weighted silence between us, because he looks back at me, and his eyes search my face. He’s been gentle with me, and honestly, he’s been gentle with Asher, especially in moments when my friend likely didn’t deserve it. I thanked the king for his kindness—and I meant it.
But I’ve also seen his other side. I dabbed that blood off his face, but I know how it got there. Behind that honeyed voice and those searching eyes is a man who knows how to put emotion aside. A man who knows how to be vicious.
Hold the border. Use lethal force.
That doesn’t just mean Hunters who could be on our trail. That meanseveryone.
Astranza’s army. Palace guards. My brother. Myfather.
Anyone who might want to harm me—but anyone who might need to protect me, too.
I look back at Ky, holding his gaze. “I am committed to this alliance,” I say, feeling my heart beat hard in my chest. “So is my family.”
“So am I,” he says equably. “But someone isn’t.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Princess
We ride on for another three hours, until the grass turns crunchy underfoot and the moon is high overhead. The footing has turned even more treacherous, especially in the dark, with many rocky outcroppings, and a few spots where we have to weave, single file, through narrow ravines that seem endless. There’s a scent in the air I don’t recognize, though it’s not entirely unpleasant: some mix of burning leaves and smoked meat, reminding me of the fall harvest in Astranza. My stomach has been hoping for food for hours. Based on the scent in the air, I expect we’re close to another inn, so I’m surprised when we come to a dip along the wall of one of the ravines, and the king calls for a stop.
“We’ll camp here,” he says.
“Camp?” I say in surprise. I’m still off-balance from our exchange at the border, when I realized that I’ve been cut off from Astranza, for good or for bad.
“Yes, Princess.Camp.”
Nearby, one of the soldiers chuckles under his breath as he climbs down from his horse. That makes me scowl.
The king whips his head in the man’s direction. “Garrett,” he snaps. “Dig a trench for the latrine.”
Garrett shuts up—and so do the others.
Inside, I’m spinning. I don’t know if it’s the threat still clinging to my back or just the simple fact that I’ve nevercampedanywhere. I move close to Ky. “Wouldn’t we be safer under cover?”
“Incendar has no inns or taverns this far north.” He kicks at the dried grass underfoot, which is sparse and brown. “It’s mostly a few roving bands of nomads, and they keep to themselves. The terrain here is not exactly hospitable.” He pauses, and his expression turns challenging. “We’ve had several long days—and nights—of riding, Princess.My soldiers need to rest. The ravines are easily defensible—and I’ll have a sentry posted.”
He’s right. Iknowhe’s right. But I’m tired and hungry, and all that’s kept me going for the last few hours has been the promise of a soft bed and a hot meal. Not the cold, hard ground and strips of dried beef or whatever the soldiers have left in their packs. Emotion tightens my throat, but I refuse to let it get to me. I already feel sheltered and inexperienced. No need to prove it to everyone else.
Nearby, Asher is tethering his horse with the others, and Charlotte is tying hers a short distance away. I head over to join them.
“I know you’ve never been a soldier,” I murmur to Asher. “Have you ever slept outside?”
“Yes.”
“Well, he sent Garrett to dig atrench.For alatrine.” I make a face—and I’m gratified when Charlotte looks as horrified as I feel. She and I privately relieved ourselves in the brush when we stopped earlier, but I hadn’t considered anythingelse.“Asher, have you ever had to use a—”
He cuts me a narrow glance. “Jory, it would probably be quicker to give you a list of unpleasant things Ihaven’tdone.”
Well, that smacks me in the face—and it’s a reminder of everything he said last night. I frown, wishing I could undo this odd hum of tension that’s formed between us. But he’s already turned back to his horse, and he’s stripping the gear, arranging it in a pile like the soldiers. I watch, following their patterns, doing the same thing.
By the time we finish, Asher and Charlotte haven’t left my side, and the king has made his way over. Behind him, a fire has been started, and I hear the low timbre of the other men’s voices.
“For a woman who seemed shocked by the idea of a campsite,” Ky says, “you did rather well with your gear.”
The compliment is startling, and I feel warmth on my cheeks, especially since his voice has fallen back into that silken tone. “I know how to tend a horse.”
