“Well, Princess, though we are in a competition, I can’t let anything happen to the person I’m fighting for,” he says with a wink.
I want to trust him, but something in my gut resists the urge to let go. It's almost as if he can read my mind because he adds, “You’ll trust me one day. I’ll do anything to make sure of that.”
Moving around his large body, I glance over my shoulder, smiling. “Maybe what you should be concerned about, Prince, is if you can trust me.”
Silas laughs. “Maybe you are right.”
We stand for a moment, our eyes locked as he briefly touches my hand. “I’ll do what I can to help in the trial, Briar. Call me possessive if you want, but I’m serious. Nothing will stop me from protecting you.”
I nod. “Does worrying about me all the time cause you any health problems?" I can’t help but chuckle at my own joke. “I’ll catch you later, Nastronde.”
He tilts his head back and laughs, showcasing his strong neck. I watch him for a moment; his laughter is infectious before I take my leave.
“You are something, Briar!”
Imake my way to the kitchen, leaving him behind. Rose and Lang will help calm my racing heart. It’s been days since I’ve heard their banter, and I’m eager for a distraction. The kitchen is quiet, which isn’t surprising, given that it’s later in the day and dinner preparations haven’t begun yet. Lang stands in his usual spot, while Rose hovers nearby.
“Your eyesight is going, old man,” she snaps. “Do you even notice how much salt you just put in that dish?”
Lang snorts, shooing her away. “The only thing wrong with me is you being a pain in my ass.”
Rose booms a laugh, nudging his shoulder as she whisks away to tend to other kitchen chores.
“Briar!” Rose cheers as she spots me.
Lang whips around with a wide grin on his face. “You look great! We heard news of the third trial being soon. Shouldn’t you be prepping?
“Well, it’s hard to prepare for something you know nothing about, isn’t it?” I sigh. “Again, my father only made vague mentions of what is to be expected, and we don’t even know for certain when the trial will take place.”
“You best watch yourself around those men. I don’t trust ‘em,” Lang barks.
Rose adds, “We all know this. You wouldn’t trust anyone going after our princess, would you? But I don’t disagree. This trial isn’t going to be easy. You need to focus and work on a plan.”
I don’t respond. She’s right—I have no plan or any idea what to expect.
The conversation dies down as they return to their duties, leaving me sitting in my usual spot. Rose quickly shuffles over to me, noticing that Lang is busy making his usual mess.
“Another letter came today.” She winks, and my suspicion that she knows more looms over me.
“Thanks, Rose.”
She hangs around for a moment longer, just staring, seeing if I will react to what she just handed me. When I don’t, she nods and walks away. The handwriting is unmistakably my mother’s. I pray to the Gods that this will give us the answers we desperately need.
Instead of rushing to my room like I’ve done in the past, I stay seated for a moment longer, trying to compose myself.
“Rose,” I call out, “where did you say this came from again?”
She smiles and shrugs. "It arrived this morning. I’m not sure about anything beyond that.”
Before excusing myself, I study her a minute longer as she keeps a casual cool with her features. Lang and Rose wave over their shoulders as I head toward the door. I make it a few paces down the hallway when I collide with a body.
“What the fuck!” I curse.
Maines lies on the floor. “Gods, I’m so sorry! I was running to find you.” She stands, rubbing her neck.
“I found something,” she says, glancing around before whispering, “About you know what.” I grab her arm and shift us to the roof, landing with a thud.
“That hurt!” she grumbles, touching her arm.
