Hopefully, they wouldn’t need it.
Dark shapes emerged from the forest, their faces hidden behind the wall of snow.
Vivienne’s stomach churned, and unease flooded her veins. She wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong, and maybe she was overreacting because it had been a long night, but something felt… off.
Her fingers twitched at her sides.
“Greetings,” she called out to the newcomers.
The howling wind was the only response.
“My companion and I,”—something told her it wasn’t wise to let them know the prince of the realm was traveling with her—“have rescued one of your villagers. She’s in dire straits and needs a healer.”
“A woman?” The voice was closer now.
“Is it Alyce?” asked another man who was further away.
The woman in Marius’s arms moaned at the sound of her name. The sound was soft, like a kitten mewling.
“It is her!” a third man yelled over the whipping wind.
A short, stocky man strode towards them. A glint of something metallic beneath the heavy fabric of his hooded cloak caught Vivienne’s eye, but she didn’t get a good look at it as he approached the horse.
“I’ll take her.” He extended his arms in Marius’s direction. “Alyce is my sister-in-law, and she’s been missing since yesterday. Her children have been worried sick.”
Children.
The word echoed through Vivienne’s mind, and her stomach bottomed out. Of course, this injured woman was a mother.
Such a cruel twist of fate.
She’d seen many things over the course of her long life, but the one that always bothered her more than others, the one that never seemed to stop haunting her, was the way this world seemed especially brutal to mothers.
Vivienne was so caught up in her thoughts that she barely noticed the prince handing Alyce over. The man cradled the injured woman to his chest as he slipped into the snowstorm.
Only then did Vivienne notice that the other men didn’t retreat with the first. If anything, they seemed tenser than before.
“What did you say your names were?” The question came from the first man, who was close enough that she could make out the shadow of a bruise under his left eye.
Vivienne wasn’t sure if it was his tone of voice or the unease she’d been feeling since the storm hit, but her stomach twisted into knots. If she’d been blessed with shadows, they would’ve been writhing in her veins.
She raised a brow. “We didn’t, actually.”
The prince was ten feet away from her, still seated atop Azil. Had he moved further away when he handed the woman over?
Damn it all.
Vivienne had let her wandering mind and soft heart distract her from the job at hand.
The villager made a sound at the back of his throat. “You know, it’s interesting. Several of my men left for the Southern Border over a week ago. They were supposed to return yesterday, but they haven’t come back.”
The knots tightened in Vivienne’s stomach, and her unease worsened. Her skin felt too tight for her frame, and she took another step towards the prince.
What were the chances that their missing villagers were the same ones they had encountered on the way to Hoarfrost Hollow?
“Oh?” Vivienne attempted to sound casual, even though every part of her wanted to reach for her sword. She didn’t, because there was a chance she was overreacting and nothing was wrong. If that was the case, she didn’t want to spook the villagers. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
The snow seemed to pick up, and the howling wind was even louder than before.
