“It’ll be unusual, but explainable. They’ll think you’re being saved for ransom. The people here have a tendency to throw things at prisoners who sit exposed.”
That was comforting. Not. “What kinds of things?”
“Food. Rocks. Other heavy or pointed objects.”
Shivers prickled my skin at the image.
“But those won’t be thrown at you,” he promised.
“Why?”
His next words were lined with a subtle fierceness that reminded me of who he was. “Because they don’t wish to die today.”
Right.
Shouts interrupted us then. Too soon, we were at the entrance. North yelled something, and then the heavy clinking of chains accompanied the weighted creak of wood. There was a loud, flat thud. Then we were moving at a slightly quicker pace. A whir of blended voices buzzed through the air.
“I’ve got you,” Harthon murmured.
I was more than a little disturbed to find myself comforted by that.
Quickly, like a massive, rolling wave, the noise multiplied, rising and rising until it was a deluge to my ears. Still, the horse moved. Then the volume peaked, and the roar of voices separated into a million shouts and cries.
We’d arrived.
Chapter 7
Those fingers on my waist lightly squeezed as panic threatened to overwhelm me. There was so much—toomuch—too many people all around, and I couldn’t see or do anything about it. If they turned on us, if they rushed forward, we would all be crushed.
My chest heaved with stunted breaths as I battled my body and mind. I needed to appear as uninteresting as possible, and struggling would do nothing to help that.
“Princeps Harthon! Welcome!”
“Our savior, our lord, we owe youeverything!”
Each yell was replaced by a new one as we continued forward, the words screamed with zealous passion from old and young voices.
“Princeps! Take our daughter as a gift! ” someone yelled, and several others quickly followed suit.
If Harthon reacted to the disturbing offers, it wasn’t vocal.
I latched onto the sound of his heartbeat beneath my ear. It was slow and steady, a grounding anchor amidst the uproar that made me want to bolt. As if sensing my barely contained alarm, his thumb, hidden beneath my cloak, began to move in slow strokes.
It was intimate, but I didn’t care. I was just surviving, and anything that soothed the bubbling energy beneath my skin was welcome. Icould reclaim my distance from him later. Closing my eyes beneath the mask, I breathed deeply as I focused on that heartbeat and that gentle sweep at my waist. Time passed in a blur of rattled inhales and exhales as the chaos continued, and then the noise of another gate opening cut through the voices.
I sensed the moment we left the city crowd and entered the Citadel. The voices muted into a dull roar, and my skin no longer tingled with the invasive stares of a thousand eyes. Heavy chains and a creak signaled the closing of the gate. Some of the tension began to leave, but Harthon continued stroking my waist, almost absentmindedly.
Except Harthon was far too aware to ever be absentminded.
“Welcome, Princeps Harthon,” a strong female voice called out.
“Thank you, Ana. We’ve missed you,” Harthon answered warmly, as if greeting a friend.
Or a lover.
I realized I had no idea whether Harthon had a Lady. He could very well be married or courting someone. It was actually more likely than not, given his status and age. He also wasn’t physicallyunattractive, as much as I wished for the opposite to be true.
If this womanwasspecial to him, it seemed wildly wrong for me to be snuggling against him with his hand on my hip. But I didn’t know who watched and whether I was to continue acting as an unconscious prisoner, so I didn’t move.
