I reached out, guiding her waist, as she slipped down the side of the wyvern. A smile broke across my lips as her feet reached the ground, safely landing in front of me. My hands lingered for a moment, not wanting to let her go.
“Excuse you.” She pulled away and shot me a glare over her shoulder.
“That’s a start.”
“Of what?” she asked.
I clicked my tongue and threw my hand out. “Allowing others to help.”
“Yeah, well, the alternative was falling off the cliff, but I guess you can claim it as a win if you must.” Her eyelashes fluttered.
Zalzre darted into the air, and the two wyverns flew to a lower peak in the distance. I took a seat on the cold stone and patted the area next to me. I brushed small pebbles from the palm of my hand and waited for her to sit.
“What’s that in the distance?” Audryn pointed towards the shadows flying around the island across the sea. “Are those wyverns out there? Gryphons? Something else?”
“That’s Alden Islands and, yes, wyverns.”
“Witches?” She sat next to me.
I tugged off my jacket and balled it up. My skin prickled from the chilly night air. “Yep. And all the other dangerous things you’ve read about, I’m sure.” Slowly, I laid back on theground, putting my jacket under my head like a makeshift pillow.
“I haven’t read about them—heard stories, sure.” She turned her legs away from me and laid back on the edge of my jacket. “It’s too cold to take my jacket off, and I’m not putting my head on the gravel, so deal with it.”
I hadn’t thought to question her; I wanted her close to me. “You mean it’s too cold for you to takemyjacket off.” I chuckled. “Aren’t you glad you wore it?”
We stared up at the sky in silence. At that altitude, not a single animal roamed. Three shooting stars darted across the coal backdrop. Absent of lights, it was the perfect place to easily spot them passing by.
“Did you make a wish?” I asked, watching another star skid across the sky and burn out.
She scoffed. "I'm not a child. I know better than to wish."
A cold gust of air sent a shiver through me. Had her life been so terrible that she no longer had any hope to throw onto a shimmering star? What did hope really cost?
My life was far from perfect, but I’d never waste the opportunity to wish for something. I closed my eyes and drew in a breath as I silently sent my hope into the air.
“Why did you bring me to Kuroden?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Was Ryder correct? Are you only using me for my magic?”
I shifted, letting the minutes drag.
When I first saw her conjuring the single pink peony in the Sutton’s garden, my intention was solely about the crude and her ability to repair the seeps. It was selfish to think of only my kingdom. But when she turned around, and I laid my eyes on her, everything shifted.
“I’m not mad if that’s the case, you obviously need to take care of your people.” She paused. “But Ryder does have people better skilled to do whatever you need. So why am I here?”
I didn’t want to lie, but answering her question was dangerous, and though I valued honesty, I also understood the importance of not giving everything away all at once. It was only a matter of which truth to tell.
“Our oil seeps are slowing,” I admitted, hoping I could trust her with the information. “I was hoping you might help.” Audryn’s strands of hair brushed against my fingertips as I put a hand under the back of my head. “Though, I’ve also wondered if you’d consider helping us establish a large garden. We haven’t been able to do much with the ground here, and we’d be less dependent on other kingdoms if we could grow our own food.” I paused before continuing. “You can refuse. It’s just, I’ve never seen someone use Divine magic as easily as you had in Rivale.”
Silence fell between us, and my stomach dipped. She could easily send word to her prince about our dangerous predicament. While it wasn’t a huge secret within our kingdom, I worried about it getting back to the other areas of Crofea and what might happen.
“I would have helped.” Audryn’s voice was nearly a whisper. “All you had to do was ask. You didn’t need to bargain me into the situation.”
“He wouldn’t have let you.” I inhaled deeply and blew out a steady breath to calm my nerves. “I had to get you away from him.”
6
GRAVE
Moving down the corridor, I stopped at the entrance of the hall leading to the royal sleeping quarters. I drew in a deep breath; the familiar stale air hit the back of my throat. Nearly a decade had passed since I’d stepped foot in my childhood bedroom; in fact, I avoided the corridor altogether. The memories linked to the area were one’s Amalee and I tried to forget. I couldn’t even be sure my mother occupied her marital bedroom. Given what she endured, it was surprising she’d even stayed in residence and didn’t order the stone castle torn down.
