I gladly spread more apple butter on mybread slice.
Nikkolas gestured to me with his fork. “Eat more, girl. I could cut parchment on your cheekbones. You have to be more robust if you are going to give mean heir.”
“Nikkolas, really?”Hilda cried.
“I am not going to apologize for telling the truth, Hilda,” Nikkolas said before chomping on somecured meat.
I glared at Nikkolas and took a bite of my bread as defiantly as I could. After eating my fill, Hilda handed me a wicker basket filled with treats for our “special journey.” The basket was heavier than it looked, but I sweetly accepted it and walked through the keep’s doors to see Riyan waiting for me at the bottom ofthe steps.
“Since I will not see Mother today,” Riyan said, “I thought you might like a tour of your new ho…ofBloodstone province.”
I had only heard stories of Bloodstone—our cold, unfeeling, and mysterious neighbors to the west. Of course, those stories were really only rumors of the Bloodstone family and tales of the beasts that lurk on the mountain. My stomach fluttered with a little excitement as I tugged on the handle ofthe basket.
He walked up the steps—stopping halfway up so his head was just below mine—and offered his hand to me. He stumbled on the steps as he attempted to bow, but I had to give him creditfor trying.
His mouth turned up into the dimpled half-smile that made my stomach jump. “Is this what a gentlemanwould do?”
I smiled back. “Close enough.”
I held onto the basket with one hand and placed the other in his palm. Riyan held my hand and awkwardly twisted his body back around so he could walk with me down the stairs. Our feet touched the grass and my hand was raised almost to the level of my eye as heheld it.
“Now what am I supposed to do?”Riyan asked.
“When a gentleman walks with a lady,” I responded, “he leads her, but does not walk too quickly. Usually, a lady holds onto the arm of a gentleman whilewalking, but—”
“But I am a big, ugly brute,” he interjected. “You couldn’t hold my arm even if you stood onyour toes.”
“Holding hands is fine,” I reassured. “Also, if we are on a path, the gentleman always walks on the side closest to anyperceived danger.”
“Gentlemen have to be told that?” Riyan scoffed. “None of those pompous bastards haveany morals.”
“When I say ‘danger,’ I mean whatever would be in the road if we were walking through the capital city,” I added. “Gentlemen normally do not promenade aroundthe mountain.”
“For good reason too.” Riyan’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “I feel bad for them, having to learn all those bullshit society rules and yet nothing about how to actuallyfucking survive.”
“Gentlemen are not supposed to swear either,” I added witha smirk.
He groaned. “This is going to be a lot harder thanI thought.”
Riyan walked with heavy footsteps, his boots making imprints in the grass and dirt as we made our way into the rocky hills outside the fortress. I tugged on the heavy basket and gripped onto Riyan’s hand as I nearly ran beside him to keep up with his pace. Riyan tried to slow down to adjust, but he tripped over his heel and caught himself justbefore falling.
“Riyan, hold on,” I panted as I tried to catch my breath. “I cannot keep upwith you.”
Riyan lowered himself onto one knee to look me in the face. “Would you hate it if Icarried you?”
I bit my tongue and glanced away. He had already dropped me once, but he did carry me just fine when we were in the apple grove. After a few moments of deliberation, I decided to justtrust him.
Riyan scooped me up in his left arm again and cradled me against his chest. He took the basket from me while chastising me for carrying anything heavy with him around. I wrapped my arms so tightly around his neck I thought I was going to choke him. My face was up by his and I caught the scent of nectar and wheat as he held me. As we walked, my body swaying in time with his, I let myself loosenmy grip.
Big, puffy clouds lazily traveled through the bright June sky, occasionally rolling in front of the sun and giving us moments of shade. We passed pine trees, singing birds, and chattering squirrels, all in the shadow of the great snow-cappedmountain’s peak.
“Are we going up the mountain?”I asked.
“No, I wouldn’t take you up there,” Riyan replied, his voice rumbling in his neck near my ear. “The peak of Nordingaard is dangerous—filled with horrors none of your soft little gentlemen couldeven imagine.”
“What is up there?” I asked, remembering the pictures of the red monster that Astrid had painted. “I know of the giants, and that red goat-man, or whatever it is, butwhat else?”
Riyan shrugged. “I don’t even know myself. Most of the people of Bloodstone avoid going too far up the mountain, mainly because of the giants…andtheir queen.”
