Raven’s cold glare told a hundred stories. ‘Yes,’ he snapped. ‘The maniac trying to rule everyone.’
Wynter patted his hand before turning to Scarlen. ‘Don’t fret, the king’s army won’t come north for a long while. We’re out of Borough Mids now, so only the government can challenge us, and they won’t. They’re afraid of shifters, you see.’
‘Everyone’s afraid of us,’ added Raven. ‘Because they know we’ll fight them to the death.’
It sounded too extreme to Scarlen. ‘There doesn’t have to be any battles, in my opinion. The king has told everyone wyrmocs will appear one day to try to destroy us, he has offered protection to the people under his care, and if the government don’t want any part of that, and some areas want to fight for themselves or choose not to believe the prophecy, then they simply let the king know, and he will leave them alone.’
Raven scoffed. ‘You actually believe that?’
‘Well, it makes sense to me.’
‘So why are there battles taking place as we speak?’ asked Raven, looking curious to know her answer.
‘I can only assume some form of misunderstanding has taken place, because the people fighting the king don’t have to. He can’t just take their land without their permission. The government would step in if he tried that.’
Raven leaned away from Wynter, his head shaking furiously. ‘He is, and they’re not because he has some of them on his side. Nothing about what he is doing is legal, Smithson. Why are you sticking up for him?’
‘I’m not. I’m just saying it how I see it.’
‘Yeah,’ huffed Raven. ‘From a southerner’s point of view.’
‘Can we not talk politics?’ said Bear, sighing at them both.
Raven waggled one finger at Scarlen. ‘I can’t sit and listen to her defend the king. The people aren’t fighting for fun, they’re under attack from nothing but the king’s army wanting their land underhisrule. Battles are going on daily, and for what?’ He raised his brows at Scarlen in question. ‘Why would they randomly start a war with the king? Hmm?’
It was a fair point, and one she couldn’t answer. As far as she knew, it was some of the midlanders causing the trouble, and the king’s army were trying to keep the peace, but Raven didn’t look ready to hear that, as his face was still scrunched, taking away his usual gentle appearance. He definitely had two sides to him, and she was pleased his quieter side was the more dominant, or maybe it was Wynter who calmed him.
‘Enough,’ said Bear, his tone filled with authority. ‘We’re home.’
The wagon stopped, and Bear flapped open the canvas and jumped down to the crunch of snow beneath his dark boots.
‘Welcome home, my lord,’ said Elbar, as the others clambered out of the wagon.
Scarlen couldn’t see much in the dark, but the tall grey castle in front couldn’t be missed, the lead windows holding the glowof light, the high turrets reaching for the snow clouds, then she realised what Elbar had said. ‘Lord?’ she questioned Bear.
‘He is our lord since his mother’s passing,’ said Elbar as she passed to hurry out of the snow.
‘You’re lord of what, Zharros?’ Scarlen asked him.
A small laugh flew out of Raven’s mouth on a puff of cold air. ‘Try, Lord of the North.’
There were lords all over the kingdom, the king had entertained many, but each one held rank over towns and villages. To be a lord over a whole Borough would make Bear almost as powerful as the government and king, and Scarlen had to wonder why he’d never mentioned such an important title before. She could also see why he would be a threat to her father. Never mind the wars in the kingdom, she was having her own internal battle.
I have to tell him I’m the princess. No, it would mean my death. But how can I not tell him? How can I speak of who I am at all?
A pain sliced through her temple, causing a low moan to slip and Bear to take her hand.
‘We need to rest. I’ll announce my arrival in the morning after we’ve been to visit Oxley and Harlex’s graves.’
Everyone headed inside, Scarlen close to Bear. ‘I’d like to place a flower upon Ox’s resting place,’ she told him, the memory of Oxley dying in her arms bringing more pain to her body.
‘It’s forbidden for you to enter the sacred ground. You are not a shifter.’ Bear removed his long, dark coat as he stepped into the warmth of his family home.
She went to respond, but the magnificence of the hallway took her by surprise. Witch magick lit the square space, showcasing portraits lining the walls, a crimson rug beneath their feet, walnut furnishings close to arched doorways, and aninglenook fireplace just before the wide stairway leading up to a landing with swirled wooden banisters overlooking the entrance to the castle. The scent of pine and earth filled the air, and two tall stone statues of men holding swords flanked the large front door.
A young woman came out of a doorway, freckles covering her smiley face. ‘My lord, you’re home. I’m so pleased.’ She curtsied, and Scarlen wondered if she was expected to do the same at times. The thought had her bite back her laugh, as her father would surely explode if his daughter curtsied to anyone but him.
‘It’s good to see you, Mari. Please see to it everyone is settled.’
