Cedric lowered himself onto a wooden bench, mindful of his still-protesting muscles. Gwenna hovered nearby, setting a small kettle on the fire. The flicker of flames danced over her face, illuminating the worry in her eyes. Neither spoke for a while, the tension from today’s encounter still hanging thick between them.
“That’s the first Lunarethen knight we’ve seen.” Gwenna shoved a plate toward him already laden with roasted rabbit haunch, hard cheese, and flatbread.
The aromas made Cedric’s stomach growl in appreciation, and it took all of his willpower not to pick up the haunch and greedily rip the meat from bones. He used a fork and knife, like the royal he had once been. “If he comes back, we can’t kill a Lunarethn knight.”
Gwenna chewed a hunk of bread, aiming the tines of her fork at him. “Oh, we certainly can.”
Cedric rolled his eyes. “We shouldn’t.” He tore off a piece of bread. “Not when that knight is one of our own.” That was the part that unsettled him the most. For ten years, no one had come. No search parties, no royal decrees. But now, suddenly, a Lunarethen knight had been sent. Why?
“Not ours anymore,” Gwenna groused. “We can’t keep doing this.”
Cedric grimaced. “He’s not the first knight to come nosing around, Gwen.”
“It only takes one to be the last,” she pointed out, her tone soft but cutting. “And did you hear him? He wants to rescue me.” Gwenna rolled her eyes, the gesture as un-princesslike as possible.
That, at least, was a source of amusement. Cedric chuckled. “As if you need rescuing.”
“Exactly.” She speared a piece of meat. “But that means he’ll probably come back. Or if not him, someone else. I…we’ve had more intruders in these last few months than in the first nine years combined.”
Cedric stared at the triangle of hard cheese as if it held the answers he sought. “So you think it’s time we left?” The question tasted bitter on his tongue. The outpost had been their sanctuary—battered, overgrown, but still theirs. He couldn’t imagine finding another place so remote or so easily defensible.
Gwenna’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know. Where could we possibly go that would be safer? Lunareth’s knights are hunting dragons and rogue princesses, and evidently we’re on their list. If we move closer to any town, we risk even more trouble.”
He let out a heavy breath, studying the lantern’s glow. “Then what do we do?” The day’s events flashed in his mind—his protective fury at seeing the knight reach Gwenna, his confusion that the man hadn’t struck a killing blow when he could have. Was it because Cedric hadn’t been on the attack? “We’ve done everything to keep them out. And yet they keep coming.”
“Maybe…” Gwenna frowned, hugging her knees. “We redouble the traps. Or expand the perimeter. I could salvage more metal scraps from the old armory and rig new defenses.”
Cedric managed a half-smile. “If anyone can turn scrap into a near-death experience for unwelcome visitors, it’s you.”
She snorted, though her eyes remained worried. “We can keep them out for a while, but how long?”
His jaw tightened. As much as Cedric disliked it, his sister had a point. They couldn’t keep this up. “Then we make a plan,” Cedric said quietly. “If we can’t hold them off forever, maybe we do need to find somewhere else. I’m just not sure where.”
They fell silent for a moment, the crackle of the fire filling the gap. An evening breeze rattled the nearby windows. Cedric’s eyes flicked to the darkness beyond, a pang of longing tugging at him. He couldn’t fly again until dawn, but part of him wanted to soar far away from this entire cursed situation.
Gwenna’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Tomorrow night,” she ventured, “once you’re human again, maybe we can go gather more supplies? We’ll need them if we stay. And if we leave…we still need them.”
Cedric shook his head. “Not we. Me.”
She glared at him. “Why leave me behind?”
Cedric sighed. “Because people are actively looking for you. They want the lost princess. No one’s searching for a dead prince.”
Gwenna’s lips pursed. “But you can only go at night. It’s dangerous.”
He rolled his shoulders. “I’ll be fine. I can fly part of the way as a dragon.” It was the easiest way to navigate the cave, certainly. Why go through when one could go over?
His sister huffed out an unhappy breath. “Fine. But for the record, I hate being left behind, you know. I’m not a fragile flower!”
Cedric chuckled. “No, you’re certainly not.” He smiled. “I promise to be careful. And I’ll be back before dawn.”
They lapsed into a companionable silence for a time. Despite the stress twisting in Cedric’s gut, he felt a deep well of gratitude for this worn-out outpost—at least here, no courtiers or advisors policed every moment of their lives. And, more importantly, Gwenna was safe.
He rubbed at his still-aching ribs, wishing the transformation didn’t leave him feeling so damaged. “We’ll figure this out,” he murmured at last, as much to himself as to Gwenna. “Somehow.”
She looked at him, determination burning in her violet eyes. “We always do.”
The night deepened around them, crickets humming beyond the walls. Cedric let the warmth of the small fire soak into his bones, all the while wondering how many more nights they could spend here before another knight—or worse—appeared at their doorstep. But for now, he had Gwenna’s company and a tentative plan. I can’t ask for more than that.
