Anara has helped every day with my training and I’m getting better. I’m confident because I can at least defend myself long enough for someone to actually come help.
A soft rap on the door calls our attention as the carriage comes to a stop. Rhenor leans his head in, a broad smile across his face. His beard is damp and the look in his eyes is one that a child has before opening a gift.
“I know the two of you are going to want to see this.” He nods towards Siphonie. “Bundle up and get out here. Don’t cheat and look out the windows yet, either. Ereon told thePrelto head on up a ways without us so we could enjoy this.” He shuts the door, leaving us wondering what has happened.
We wrap our heavy scarfs around our heads, Siphonie grabs a thicker shawl to cover her own arms. With reluctance and some choice words, she changed out of her Antalian clothing at the laststop to once again wear the attire of Shaston. While she openly expresses her dislike for the clothing, she still values staying warm.
Siphonie is the first one out the door, Rhenor grabbing her around her waist as she exits. Her squeals of delight and happiness hurry my own steps, curious to know what’s out there. I take a step out, my boot crunching the earth beneath me. As far as the eye can see, the ground that was once the sands of Shaston has transformed, blanketed in a layer of pure white snow. And from the gray sky, more of the white powder is falling all around us. The Northern Mountains are covered in white and my breath hitches at the sight. I take hesitant steps away from the carriage, feeling Anara behind me.
Thylas is the first one I see. His armor is slick, but it’s his hair that’s covered in white snowflakes that catches my attention. His gaze locks with mine and a gentle smile plays on his lips. He runs a hand along his recently shaved chin. He takes a step toward me but stops.
I look up and smile, feeling a warmth spread through me as the truest smile I’ve had in moons lights up my face. My scarf falls away from my head and snowflakes gently cascade down onto my own cerulean strands. I lift my hands up, feeling the soft touch of the falling snow as it melts in my palms.
“Snow.” The word falls from my lips. I’ve heard the stories of such a thing, but to witness it is something else. Despite the chill in the air, the beauty of our surroundings is undeniable. The entire landscape seems to glisten in the small slivers of sun that escape between the clouds.
I feel arms slip around my waist. The coolness of his presence and the hum of my chest tell me it’s Ereon. He nuzzles his head into the side of my neck. Thylas’ gaze turns bitter as he watches Ereon pull me closer into him. My breath tightens as he stares at me, his expression changing from joy to sadness. As I stand there, something rushes by my ear, causing me to flinch. In an instant, a massive white ball smashes into Thylas’ chest before any of us can react.
“Terrible reflexes, Ambassador!” Laughter spills from Anara.
Ereon releases me and we turn to her as she’s bent over, already forming another ball of snow in her hands. Thylas turns his attention to Anara and his gaze softens as he wipes his golden armor free from debris before stooping and making a ball of his own and throwing it at her. She runs towards him, throwing handfuls now at him. He dodges her, but throws snowballs towards her and at Rhenor. Rhenor grumbles something about being too old for this beneath his breath, but then takes off after Thylas. The three of them proceed to throw snow between them.
Looking up to Ereon, so many emotions flicker behind his brown eyes as he watches Anara. His expression mirrors that of how Thylas looks at me, and I feel uncertain. If only I could remember. Ereon looks down at me, his fingers brushing the snow from my cheek. Without warning, a ball of snow comes flying towards me, but Ereon’s forearm skillfully knocks it out of the air.
“You’re no fun, Ereon!” Siphonie pouts from in front of me. “That was perfectly aimed!”
“SorryBêlit. Reflexes took control.” He laughs before he grabs me again. With his muscular arms tightly holding mine against my sides, he shouts, “Try again! I’ll hold her this time.”
With a mischievous grin, Siphonie snatches a handful of snow and dashes towards me. She playfully tosses it over my head, causing a chilling sensation to creep into the back of my hood. Laughter escapes me, a sound I’ve not heard in so long. Ereon releases me and I grab the hem of my dress, pulling it up, and I run after her like we did when we were children.
thirty-one
Ereon
“Reports from Midaeliea, Prince Ereon.” A young messenger comes running up to me, his teeth chattering with the cold.
“What of Antalis?” I ask him, looking down at the map in front of me on the dark table inside the council tent.
“I gave Ambassador Thylas the correspondence from Antalis.” He looks around nervously, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Should I have brought it to youfirst?”
If I were my father the answer is a resounding yes. I’m not him, though, so I’ll let the boy keep his head, a blessing my father wouldn’t have given, no matter his age. “No, you may go.” I wave my hand at the boy and he bows before leaving the tent.
Thylas will be here soon and hopefully will report how things are in the kingdom by the sea. The tension between us is noticeable to everyone, I’m sure. Almost worse than when we left Antalis. I thought we had come to an understanding and, in a way we had, before she woke up. Now I watch him. If he isn’t looking at Carnaxa with longing, he’s spending time with Anara. I grind my teeth, because Anara is still avoiding me. Even when we were all out in the snow. I tried to pull her away from the others so she would talk to me. She is refusing to be left alone in my presence; I watched as her eyes slid to Thylas and then he told her Carnaxa requested her presence. Maybe she did, but it seemed like a way to get leave without talking to me — and he helped her.
But after everything Anara and I have been through, the way my heart felt towards her the first time I saw her … I need to talk to her. I don’t care what my father said, she should know better than anyone. He is the last person I would trust.
I stand up and stretch my back. I don’t know how we will ever be able to help everyone who needs aid, all while still figuring out the personal mess we are all in.
“The King is sick.” Thylas comes bursting through the tent’s door. He’s chosen to wear his Antalian armor since arriving at the base of the mountain range. It’s a good idea, and I should change into the cold metal too, but for now, the furs are warmer. He’sshaved recently, which is interesting considering he almost had a beard as full as mine. Maybe Anara is a better friend to him than I thought, and for that I’m thankful.
“Which king? There are several on Ashonera.” I turn to him, praying to the Goddess or evenRa Syamthat he means my father. But I notice the letter in his hand, the gold seal with a trident in the middle. No.
“Clennom. He’s come down with the deluc,” Thylas says, his face now pale.
“How bad is it?” This will gut Carnaxa. Thylas sits down in the chair in front of the table, rubbing his head between his hands before he looks up at me and just hands me the letter. I let my eyes glance over it quickly. “Fuck!” I throw the letter across the room. Healers report they don’t expect him to live much longer than two, maybe three moon cycles if they don’t find a cure. Most of Antalis is gone now, thanks to the deluc — their bodies carried away by the sea.
“Who knows?” I ask him.
“Just us, I hope. I have told no one else yet.” He runs a hand over his face and moves the stray strands.
