“The talisman.” Asterious said. “What if it’s cursed? What if he’s lying?”
“And what if he’s not? Do you really think he would curse it after all he did to help us?” A trickle of doubt crept into Caramyn’s mind. “You’re the one who told me to trust more. Now maybe it’s you who need to have a little trust,” she said. “Not in him. But in me.”
Asterious glowered. “I do trust you.”
“Good. And just to make you feel better, I have no intention of wearing it. I’ll just keep it here in my pocket—just in case.”
“I’m not going to tell you what to do with it. But I have difficulty imagining a situation we could possibly get into that would require his help.”
Caramyn shook her head, and for a moment she thought of tossing the charm out in the dirt. But even if it seemed absurd, the subtle fear of ending up in a situation like being sold to Frostlords in the Spires, or running from soldiers through the Bleak Wilderness with nothing but the clothes on her back—of facing danger alone again—made her hold onto it instead, nestled in her pocket…just in case.
Asterious’ smirk faded as he looked ahead toward the miles of terrain before them, far beyond the fishing villages of Magoth. “Now we make our way back to the Court. It’s at least another day’s walk on foot.” Asterious said with a tired but firm tone.
“Then let’s get walking.” The aroma of warm bread drifted to Caramyn’s nose, overpowering the smell of fish and stale bilgewater. “But first let’s grab something to eat. I can’t stomach another bite of that dry jerky.”
“Agreed,” the prince said, pulling his cloak even further down over his face. “Just keep your guard up and your head down.”
“A day like any other.”
As they entered the village market of Magoth, wary of their surroundings but keeping a normal pace, Asterious nudged hergently. “Actually, it’s not a day like any other at all. Today is a special day.”
Caramyn raised an eyebrow, still focused on the selection of food at the vendor table they approached. “Oh? Why is that?”
“You said you were born on the first day of the eleventh month. That’s today.”
Caramyn realized it was, and she hadn’t even noticed. She’d forgotten her own birthday, but he’d remembered. And it was certainly not what she’d expected him to bring up. But she replied inquisitively. “I…I suppose it is.”
“Well after all I’ve done, after all you’ve been through because of me, I’d like to give you something. It can never make up for everything. But it’s a start.” He cleared his throat, purchasing two cinnamon pastries and two legs of roasted lamb from the busy market seller, who hardly gave them a passing glance. “So, what would you like? A garden for your plants? Another horse? Books?”
Caramyn thought for a moment as she stuffed the warm pastry into her mouth. She pictured the Vaerwynd castle, remembering the night she snuck back to her tower, passing the magnificent ballroom in all its haunting midnight beauty. She closed her eyes as she imagined how it might have felt to twirl gracefully across the golden marble floor when it was once in its glorious prime. She knew exactly what she wanted.
“A dance. In the castle ballroom.” She smirked, swallowing the last bit of pastry. “But I hardly think this is time for birthday wishes.” Caramyn wrinkled her nose and bit her cheek, looking ahead and the worn dirt road before them.
“Maybe not. But I swear to you, when the time is right—and itwillbe—you shall have your dance.” His eyes shone with a twinkle that rivaled the stars.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, prince.” Caramyn laughed. It was part-joke part-truth. How could he ever hope to dance with her when he couldn’t even touch her?
“And why wouldn’t I be able to keep that promise, apart from the obvious?” Asterious raised an eyebrow, passing a clever glance her way.
Because what if I’m wrong about everything, and we can’t break your curse, and you can never find the strength to be near me?
“Because I imagine you’re an awful dancer.”
“Then that just shows how little you know of me.” The prince’s chuckle filled the air around them and warmed Caramyn’s soul as they trudged through a cool, dense fog. “I’m quite a skilled dancer, you should know. I wasn't allowed to attend any of the feasts or banquets my father held, but they held private balls for just me alone in my cell.” He was nearly grinning ear to ear at his own cruel sarcasm. “I was still required to learn all the most popular dances and courtesies of the ballroom as part of my training—just in case, they said.”
“Just in case you ever met the Witch of the Shadow Woods who asked to dance for her birthday.”
“In case I ever met theQueenof the Shadow Woods and needed to impress her.” He feigned a bow, nearly tripping as they walked.
Caramyn beamed at him in a way she hadn’t thought possible, and in a way she knew didn’t make sense. Here they were joking about dancing, pretending the hideous truth wasn’t keeping them apart—that he could kill her if he so much as thought about her too long. And it would trap him in his eternal consequence. And yet she would be willing to risk it a thousand times over just to hear that laugh, low and unguarded, meant only for her. For the way the sound of her name on his voice made her breath falter, for the warmth that spread through her at the smallestbrush of him, and for the ache that followed when he pulled away.
Nocthar cawed overhead, gliding past them as if to urge them onward. Asterious’ smile faded as he took a slow breath inward. “I hate to ruin the fun, but if we hope to reach the Court by tomorrow, we can’t afford to stop for more than a quick piss and drink.”
Caramyn readjusted the bow at her back and straightened her shoulders. “Then let’s shut up and move.”
Without any further exchange of words, they followed the raven, pushing themselves to walk faster and farther. Into the night they carried on in silence, too tired to speak even if they wanted to. When the great towering steeples of Vaerwynd finally came into view, and Caramyn spotted a torch burning in the distance, she started to smile, thinking it was Terrin waiting to greet them. But it was only as the flame approached, faster than faster, she realized it was Tyrios, panicked and rushing to meet them.
“Thank the Shattered gods you’re back.” He skidded to a stop, panting out the words.
