He was shaking with silent laughter behind me. “They did not hear.”
“They absolutely heard,” I hissed.
“Go to sleep.”
“I will never sleep again,” I declared. “I will die of embarrassment first.”
He just pulled me closer, body still trembling with suppressed laughter.
I was totally wrong about not sleeping. Exhaustion won, and I was out before Mal even stopped laughing.
***
The next morning, I woke to early light filtering through the tent and Mal’s amused face watching me.
“Sleep well?” he asked, grinning.
“Shut up.” I mumbled, my body sore from the spell and all the exercise we’d done the day before.
“You fell asleep in approximately four minutes.”
“I hate you.”
I did not. Tragically.
Emerging from the tent was one of the most embarrassing experiences of my life. The guards were professionally pretending nothing had happened. Their faces were carefully neutral as they packed up camp. Too suspiciously neutral.
“Good morning, Your Majesties,” one guard said, his expression giving nothing away. His voice was perfectly even. Not a hint of amusement. Very impressive.
“Morning,” I mumbled, avoiding eye contact.
“Ready to depart?” another guard asked, also with a completely neutral face, suspiciously devoid of any reaction.
“Yes. Let’s go. Quickly.” Still not looking at anyone. I would never look at anyone, ever again.
“Sleep well, Your Majesties?” a third guard asked innocently.
I shot him a look. He was suddenly very interested in adjusting his pack straps.
Mal was still grinning. I considered portaling him into a lake. Or a swamp. Swamp would be more satisfying.
We broke camp and resumed our journey. I walked hand in hand with Mal, trying to pretend I wasn’t still dying inside. The guards were absolute professionals. Not one of them made eye contact with me or said anything remotely suggestive.
I appreciated their discretion even as I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.
“We are close,” Casimya announced as we walked. “Very close. The wards are strong here.”
The forest was getting stranger. Trees grew in unnatural patterns, their branches twisted and gnarled. The paths seemed to loop back on themselves.
Magic. Strong magic, laid deliberately to keep intruders away.
“How much longer?” I asked.
“Minutes,” Casimya said, her eyes focused on something I couldn’t see. “Perhaps less.”
Mal squeezed my hand, feeling my nerves through our bond. “Whatever happens, we face it together.”
“What if she won’t help?”
