Soon, I’m so far behind, the prince and his entourage look like a line of marching ants. My muscles tremble and scream, and the thin mountain air refuses to fill my lungs. My vision goes dark and fuzzy around the edges.
How did Ro ever manage this climb in her heavy chain mail gown?
I didn’t.Her voice swirls around me on a gust of wind.
“But you took nothing else when you left,” I say.
I decided to embrace Vanzadorian tradition. I wanted to display my willingness to adapt to their customs…
“What, exactly, does that mean?” I ask, though I have a terrible feeling I know where this is headed.
I climbed naked, Ro announces with wicked glee.
I laugh so hard I trip over a root on the trail. “You didn’t! You wouldn’t!”
I would. And I did.
“I wish I could have seen our husband’s reaction tothat.”
I hear Ro’s laughter in the cry of a hawk, feel her wink in the blaze of sunshine burning my nose.Why do you think Alaric was so keen to climb with you instead of riding with his father?
Now I’m laughing even harder. So hard, I’m making little gaspingnoises. “The only way I’d allow Alaric to see me naked is if he was dead and I was dancing around his corpse the way our ancestors used to.”
When did you become so vicious?Rowenna asks, a hint of pride in her voice.
“When they took you,” I say without hesitation.
That’s the moment that ripped me in two—a distinct before and after. But Rowenna doesn’t agree right away, and I wonder if she’s trying to tell me something.
Some lemon trees never give fruit. Not because they don’t have the ability or potential, but because the tree has never been given the proper amount of water and sunlight. Perhaps seedlings of her rage and tenacity have always lain dormant with in me, but I never had occasion to cultivate them because she produced enough for us both.
But maybe I’m like her in that way. Maybe that part of her lives on in me.
The thought makes me clap with delight.
“What’s she doing?” a faraway voice asks.
I turn to look for the speaker, but all I see are smears of gray.
“And why is she flopping around like that?” another disembodied voice says. “And cackling?”
I don’t realize they’re talking about me or that I’ve crumpled to the ground, until fingers close around my bicep and yank me upright.
“She’s suffering from altitude sickness.”
This voice, I recognize. Apparently, my darling husband has come to save me.
“Leave me alone. I don’t want your help,” I mumble and swat at the air.
“And I don’t want to help you, but neither of us are in a position to get what we want.” Alaric picks me up and holds me in his arms like an infant—or like an actual bride being carried into the marriage chamber.
“Under no circumstance will I allow this!” I cry. But when I try to wriggle free, my body jiggles uselessly. It’s humiliating and beyondinfuriating, and even though I want to scream, I find myself giggling because Rowenna is giggling. I can practically feel her shaking with laughter.
Bravo, baby sister.He looks absolutely miserable. This is almost better than my naked climb.
“Imagine if I was naked too,” I say between gasps.
Alaric’s hands falter, and for a terrifying moment, I think he might drop me. “Why, in the name of the kings, would I imagine that?” he demands.
