Hunger and cold. Absolutely not.
"I am not waiting for this man to arrive," he told his men. "We are leaving."
"But Highness?—"
"Let the girl get eaten by undead. She and her husband can die together. It is practically romantic."
"King Fyris said she is needed for the bond?—"
Avaneer smiled. "Do not patronize me, Lorak. It is unbecoming. In this moment, which matters more? My hunger, or this political alliance that has everyone so thoroughly obsessed with this golden-eyed woman?"
"Prince—"
"Do not answer that." He snapped the man's neck before he could, then turned to the remaining men with pleasant composure. "Anyone else with objections to going home?"
No one moved.
“If asked for specifics, we will tell my father the undead overpowered us and the girl was bitten. A terrible loss. Very upsetting for everyone.” He turns in the snow. “Are we in agreement?”
"Yes," the men said.
Avaneer exhaled. "I do not feel that you mean it when you say only yes. I prefer yes, Majesty, with a small bow at the end. Is that truly so difficult?"
"Yes, Majesty," they said in unison, and bowed.
Avaneer clasped his hands together, genuinely pleased. "Delightful. Now. I have a taste for an aged red and I intend to be warm within the hour."
CHAPTER 49
The Avanki
Iwake to noise. Voices, the sound of boots on frozen ground, the rhythm of troops moving in formation somewhere above us. I blink through the remnants of sleep and listen. Beneath it all I hear something else, the snap of fabric in the wind, and I know before I see it what it will be.
Colsar is already up. He helps me sit, one hand braced at my back, and the wound tears through me the moment I shift my weight, a sound leaving me before I can stop it, raw and immediate. He holds me through it without comment, waiting until my breath returns before he does anything else.
Saurin moves to the pack and begins sorting through it while Colsar steadies me. She works quickly, pulling layers free, setting things aside, and then she goes quiet for a moment.
"There are baby items in here," she says, her voice carrying something careful in it. "Sewn by hand."
"I packed some," I say. "Just in case."
I look at Colsar. "At the bottom there should be two small hats. Warm ones."
"No need," Saurin calls over, already holding them up. "I found them."
She sets them aside and continues sorting. "The minute he sits up they will wake," she says, something like a laugh moving through it. "I will take them when I have their traveling clothes ready and when I find something suitable for you, Majesty."
It no longer felt strange being called that. It had stopped feeling strange somewhere in Alarna, and now it simply was.
"There," Saurin says a few minutes later. "Everything is ready."
Colsar carries the children one at a time to the table Saurin has covered in blankets, a warm basin beside it, cloth for nappies, and the small layers she has assembled for the cold ahead. He holds Ari against his chest while she dresses Fiorakis, who begins screaming the moment she is pulled away, her objection immediate and absolute.
Colsar reaches into the other pack with one hand and holds something up. "Will this work?"
I look at it. "That is a nightgown."
He frowns. "It looks like a dress to me."
