“Was that a compliment?” she asked.
“No, it was an observation.”
“You seem to have mademanyobservations just now,” she teased.
When my eyes met hers, she was smirking. Let her think she was ribbing me. I’d never been embarrassed to appreciate a woman’s appearance.
“So, a horse, Darvanda? Are you capable of producing that, or would you like to continue trying to make me uncomfortable in this silk napkin that I was given to wear?”
“Are you uncomfortable with being looked at?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “But I can’t tell if you’re trying to determine the best way to fuck me or filet me. Andthatmakes me uncomfortable.”
“Both. You pick the order,” I grumbled.
“You are vile,” she said with a scrunched nose, but a bubble of laughter escaped her lips.
My crude joke had landed.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not getting back in that cart, so either I walk, and slow us down, or you find me a horse.”
I let my hand run down my face before I stepped away from her. She was altogether too amused; it would be easier if she were more intimidated.
If the small victory of not riding in the cart would keep her from bothering me the rest of the trip, then so be it. “Unload a mule’s pack into the carriage,” I instructed the nearest soldiers.
With a hand on her hip, she said, “A mule, really?”
“You are more than welcome to ride with one of my men or go back in the carriage.”
She took one look around at the bloodstained tunics of my men, unbathed and well traveled, and another glance at the carriage. “Mules are built for tough terrain, even better than a horse.”
For the next week, the sun was unrelenting. Not a cloud had marked the blue sky. A few times, Queen Wymark had looked so unsteady on her mule I’d nearly opted to Shadow her to Sahlmsara. But this journey, the harsh reality of it, was important for her to appreciate. I always traveled with my soldiers, and she should have to as well.
The rocky terrain did nothing to cool the ground, so the heat of late spring enveloped us. These red rocks and this unforgiving land were home to me now. In the low desert, the greener brush was already becoming yellow and dry, and the towering spiky plants did nothing to shade us. Nearly a century of making this trek to secure exiles’ safety, and then four centuries more living here myself, had hardened me to the conditions.
“Is everything in this land designed to be deadly?” the Queen said from the mule to my left. She motioned to the spiked foliage. In juxtaposition to the dying grasses, the cacti were blooming with various colored flora.
“Mhm,” I answered. I’d tried to pawn her off on Elsedora, but my flighty officer kept wandering off, so I was forced to stay by the ever-talkative Queen.
“They’re pretty. In a very prickly stay-away-or-else sort of way. Like you.”
I squinted and hummed a response, not letting myself react to her statement, which had most definitely been aimed at baiting me into conversation.
We were approaching the switchbacks of the canyon that led down into the city, and the spires of buildings were beginning to peek above the horizon.
She spoke again. “Are you just going to keep grunting at me?”
I shrugged. The horses and carts at the front of the procession began to crest the canyon and travel downhill. I watched as the riders leaned back on their horses, freeing the animals’ shoulders to navigate the mountainous terrain unobstructed.The Vallic Mountains, which separated us from the volcanic shores, created a backdrop against the deep valley, painting the view in reds and browns. Colors I’d grown to love.
At Sybilla’s gasp, I finally looked over at her. Her eyes were as big as saucers. She steered the mule to the side of the trail and stopped at the canyon’s edge.
“Sources,” she breathed out. Her heart-shaped lips were chapped from the sun and hung open.
I followed her line of sight, realizing that, from our vantage point, Sahlmsara was now in full view. I’d helped build the city stone by stone, one canal and crop yard at a time. The population had boomed, and the city stretched the full width of the canyon, with the densest sector around Umber House—my home.
I imagined what it might be like to see it for the first time. Judging by her reaction, it was not what the Queen had expected. I didn’t ask but watched her take it in.
“It’s marvelous.” She didn’t spare a glance at me. “You built all this?”
