Keely leaned forward, lowering her voice to a murmur only for him. “You’re needed at the palace, and I need to be with you. That is where we should make our home.”
He bent forward, resting his forehead on hers. “Are you certain, Keely? I know you wanted to go north.”
“Yes.” She was certain. If he was in Kaerlud, it was the right place for her to be. She would rather be where he was than anywhere else in the world.
Damn. She blinked, realizing the truth—she loved him.
She had never expected to feel love again. And this was nothing like her first love—that had been all excitement and hope and youthful romance. This was deeper. Stronger. Built on mutual respect and admiration as well as insane levels of attraction. The understanding that came from having lived, and lost, and learned what was important.
And Tor was important. Especially to her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Gods.Shewascertain. He could see the stubborn look in her eye. The spark that told him she’d made up her mind and they would be traveling back to Kaerlud and staying there. Together.
She’d told him she was prepared to take a risk on him. That they were going to be a family. And then she had immediately acted on it, confirming the truth of everything she’d promised. She had kissed him proudly, publicly. Claimed him, for everyone to see, in a way that no one in his life ever had before.
And she wasn’t just anyone. She was Keely.
He grinned down at her, wondering whether it would be acceptable to scoop her up and carry her back to their room. She was wearing far too many clothes, and their audience was already annoying. He wanted her back in his bed where he could show her, very, very slowly, exactly how much she meant to him. Just because hecouldlet go of his control occasionally, didn’t mean he had to.
Her eyes gleamed up at him, the sides crinkling with amusement. She knew exactly what he was thinking... and she liked it.
He was about to excuse them from the conversation and drag her from the room, when a Mabin guard carrying a rolled parchment tapped at the door.
Alanna waved him inside. “Thank you, Tomas, you can put it here.” She gestured to the table next to them. “Were you able to get to the other side of the lake?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Tomas strode forward and unrolled a large map as they all stood to take a closer look.
Tomas pointed to the large blue body on the map. “It would have been difficult to see from this side because of the fog as the rain came in, but the lake is L-shaped. The fire burned the forest that led up to the camp, and the other side is formed from sheer, mountainous walls. We followed the bottom dog-leg and eventually reached a sandy shore with a path out over the hills.”
Tor ran his eyes over the map, reluctantly impressed. The spot Andred had chosen for the camp was even better than it had first seemed. Easy access to the Great North Road, close to the passes into Verturia, almost impenetrable, but with a tiny, hard to find, built-in escape hatch. Thank the gods they’d chosen to run up the gorge when they escaped the camp. What were the odds of them finding that one small beach in the storm?
And, even more terrifying, if they hadn’t realized Keely was missing as quickly as they did; if he had sat in her farmhouse bedroom like an asshole for even half an hour more, she would have disappeared. They might never have found her. Certainly not in time.
He kissed the top of her head. She was safe, thank the gods.
Tor brought his attention back to the map, running his finger along the detailed images. The mountain ranges of Verturia spread out to the north of Staith, thin silver lines highlighting the few passes leading into the northern kingdom.
Wide grassy plains lay to the east. A relatively easy couple of weeks’ ride to the Asherahn Sea and across to the Continent of Sasania. To the south, the Great North Road—or the longer, winding roads and tracks through the villages and market towns—leading back to Kaerlud.
Andred’s camp was destroyed, and the bulk of his army was lost. Which way would he turn? North or west to disappear into the mountains to rebuild his army, east to start a new life in a foreign land, or south?
Val grunted, watching Tor. “Will he hide or fight?”
Tor ran his eyes over the map once more, but he already knew the answer. He settled his finger on a market town a day’s march southeast from the lake. “He’ll start here, pick up horses and buy supplies. And then, from there… he’ll head south toward Kaerlud.”
Tor could feel it in his bones. Andred hated Lucilla, and he would have a backup plan for his backup plan. He wouldn’t let the loss of a bunch of half-trained reivers and dishonorably discharged former soldiers stop him.
“I agree,” Keely said, a reassuring warmth beside him. “Andred wouldn’t let his feud go just because he had to change his strategy.”
“He genuinely believes that he has the right to be king,” Daena chimed in softly, her pale face throwing her burn scar into stark relief. “He honestly thinks that his noble Apollyon heritage puts him in line for the throne and that he would be doing the right thing for the kingdom if he takes control. It is the truth as he sees it.”
Rafe glared at Daena as if he still wasn’t convinced, but Tor knew Andred and his arrogance. The man probably did sincerely believe he should be the king. And Ballanor had betrayed him; that would color everything he did.
Andred would go south. But then what? And what did they need to do to stop him?
Tor wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, thinking, while Daena fidgeted across from him. Daena. Andred’s former lover. Gods. That was the answer.
