Chapter Twenty-Six
Thyra
Within seconds, we’ve left the crowd behind. Then, the city.
Despite Antony’s silence, I’m certain I’m headed into danger.
What makes it worse… my fatigue is growing. It’s been hours since I had anything to eat or drink, and this physical weakness will only make me more vulnerable.
Against my will, my shoulders slump as we soar east across farmland and orchards that extend for miles until we finally approach a series of mountains.
I make out large packs of four-legged animals racing through the thick forests stretching across the mountain peaks below.
I’ve never seen anything like these animals. They’re sleek beasts, possibly as tall as the giant eagle, but with brown fur that camouflages them against the earthy brown bark of the surrounding trees. It looks like they have a thatch of horns on their heads, but I can’t be sure, since they run like the wind, quickly disappearing beneath the trees.
Antony doesn’t seem concerned about them, doesn’t look down or steer the blue eagle away, so I guess they aren’t a threat. Or, at least, not to him.
The more I try to sit straight, the worse my exhaustion grows, until I abandon any façade and accept my limitations. I tell myself it’s far better to rest while I can before we land.
Finally, we soar toward the highest peak and circle a white stone building nestled within the trees.
The building’s details become clearer as the eagle descends toward the clearing in front of it. Vines twine around white pillars at its front, trailing across carvings of what appear to be battle scenes etched into its stone walls.
The eagle alights gently on the lush grass while Antony’s voice sounds in my ear. “This is my family’s temple. Only those of royal blood are allowed to set foot here. You may enter only because you’re with me.”
Then, he points to the sky as if it should mean something to me. “Now that sunset is close, my mother won’t leave the city. She’s tied to the city at night, and nobody else will follow us.” His soft breathing brushes my ear. “You’re all mine.”
His declaration should frighten me, but instead it sends a tingle through my neck and back, a shot of energy that I desperately need.
A moment later, his arms scoop around my waist, and he whisks me off the eagle, slipping to the ground and placing me back on my feet.
The bubbling of nearby water immediately draws my focus.
The pillar at the temple’s far right corner has a fountain at waist-level, liquid flowing from a porcelain spout into a bowl that’s slightly elevated off ground level.
My thirst is terrible enough that the promise of hydration ismaddening.
It seems Antony doesn’t want me to die of dehydration, because he hoists me up into his arms and carries me to the fountain, my head against his chest and my legs bent over his arm.
“Drink,” he orders me before he’s even put me back on the ground.
The moment my feet touch the grass, I drop to my knees, cupping my hands beneath the flowing water.
I can’t stop my groan of relief as the sweet liquid fills my mouth. Even the ruby circlet, softly clanking against the side of the bowl now that I’m kneeling, can’t dim my relief.
I sense Antony’s focus on me, but he doesn’t seem in a hurry to move me along, so I drink and drink until it feels like my stomach will burst. Possibly not a wise move, given that attending to my bodily needs will soon become a problem, but right now, I welcome the clarity of thought and revived energy the water brings me.
Finally, I lean back on my heels, listening for Antony’s next command and then, when he refrains from barking at me, the silence around us.
It’s peaceful.
A stone bench rests nearby, vines twining serenely around it and up the white pillar. In the distance, I make out soft rustling sounds, as calm as the constantly bubbling water. I imagine another herd of those creatures I saw from the air moving quietly through the underbrush, this time unhurried.
Antony hasn’t sought water or food. He certainly isn’t pushing me aside to get to the fountain. I wonder if highborn can manage for much longer without sustenance. I was certain their bodily needs were the same as a lowborn’s. Maybe he simply doesn’t want to take off his helmet again.
He stares downat me, his eyes revealing nothing.
“Inside,” he finally growls, inclining his head toward the temple’s entrance.
