“Then you’d better talk,” she called back, far too pleased with herself. He could practically hear her smirk.
Realizing he wasn’t getting his clothes back without some groveling, Cedric relented. “Fine,” he muttered. “I flew because it’s going to take too long if we’re only on foot. I know how to stay hidden. I’m no stranger to flight.” He flexed his shoulders, still feeling the phantom stretch of wings. “And I didn’t intend to fly all day with you, but dusk seemed like a low-risk time.”
His answer was met with the sound of fabric rustling, followed by his bundled clothes sailing over a bush. Cedric caught them before they could hit the dirt, shaking out the layers before tugging them on. As he stepped out, still fastening his trousers, Gwenna was waiting with his boots, arms crossed.
“I forgive you,” she said breezily. Then she punched his shoulder, not holding back. “But next time, I’d love some advance notice.”
Cedric laughed, rubbing the spot where she’d landed the blow. “Noted.” He pulled on his boots and straightened. “Now, do you want a hot meal for dinner? There’s a town close to here.”
Gwenna’s expression instantly brightened. “You don’t have to tell me twice. Lead the way.”
They set off as twilight embraced the land. The town came into view as darkness fully settled in, the warm glow of lanterns spilling onto the dirt road. The streets were alive with the quiet bustle of evening—shopkeepers locking up, travelers seeking shelter, the scent of roasting meat and fresh bread wafting through the air.
“Remember,” Gwenna cautioned as they passed beneath the wooden arch marking the town’s entrance, “we’re just simple travelers passing through. Nothing remarkable about us.” She pulled a shawl out, draping it over her head like a grandmother.
Cedric nodded, adjusting his posture, forcing himself to breathe. He could do this.
“There.” Gwenna jerked her chin toward an inn with a sign depicting a prancing deer. “Looks promising.”
Inside, the inn was warm, inviting, and so very normal. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering light over the faces of weary travelers nursing their drinks and meals. The scent of spiced stew made Cedric’s stomach cramp with hunger.
He followed Gwenna to a quiet corner table, lowering himself onto the bench. His gaze snagged on the flyers, plastered onto the walls near the bar, posted beside notices of bandits and trade agreements. Gwenna was right. It looked just like her.
The innkeeper brought them bowls of thick stew, dark bread on the side. Cedric didn’t care about the ingredients, so long as it was food. They ate in silence, ears tuned to the murmurs of the tavern.
“…taxes are higher than ever,” a man at a nearby table grumbled. “King Darius claims it’s for the good of the realm, but I don’t see how squeezing us dry helps anyone but him.”
Cedric stilled, his spoon halfway to his mouth.
“Careful,” the woman across from him warned. “You know what happens to those who speak against the king.”
A sharp pang hit Cedric’s heart. He forced himself to keep eating.
But inside? Inside, something cracked. This was his kingdom. The land he had loved. And now—this? Fear. Oppression.
Darius had done this. How had things gone so wrong?
Gwenna had heard it too. Cedric could tell by the way her lips pressed together, by the brief but sharp glimmer of emotion in her eyes—annoyance, yes, but also something deeper. A weariness, a frustration that mirrored his own.
But there was nothing they could do about it now. Finn came first.
Then—and it startled Cedric to even think about it—then they could decide what to do about Darius.
For ten years, he had let himself believe he no longer cared, that Lunareth had been lost to him the moment he had fled Solavere Palace. But hearing the whispers of suffering, of oppression, made something in his core tighten, made his pulse quicken with anger. It was the first time in a decade that he had allowed himself to feel anything for the kingdom he’d left behind.
It was a strange sensation. Not entirely unwelcome. But it would have to wait.
“Come on. The night’s not getting any younger,” Cedric murmured to Gwenna once they had both finished their meals.
She nodded, rising from the table as he dropped a gold coin onto the worn wooden surface, more than enough to cover the cost of their food. They slipped out of the inn, moving like shadows into the quiet streets, careful to avoid lingering gazes.
Gwenna must have sensed the direction of Cedric’s thoughts because she filled the silence with chatter. “Remember that time we snuck out of the castle to see the summer fair?” she asked, glancing at him with a knowing smile. “You were so worried we’d be caught, but you still came.”
Cedric huffed a quiet laugh. “Because you begged me to. And because you promised we wouldn’t get into trouble.”
She grinned. “I believed that at the time. Not my fault we underestimated Father’s guards.”
He shook his head, remembering the look on their father’s face when they had been herded back through the palace gates. “He was furious,” Cedric admitted. “But it was worth it to see your face when you saw the acrobats.”
