He shifted his weight behind her, confused at the enticing warmth her current presence provided but not wanting to be close to her as the pain of her absence came back to him.
Chapter 7
Robin squeezed her knees as tightly as she dared around the moving horse beneath her. The effort burned in her thighs, but she was used to discomfort and knew she could handle the effort for some time longer.
The alternative option was to stay stable by leaning all her weight against the man at her back. And she was not ready to do that.
She had been shocked to realize that noble they were raiding was Ian. And that alone had roused her anxiety. But then, in the clearing, she had watched Ian’s carefully constructed composure crumble because he and Erich were talking about her. The Ian she had known never got angry or let himself appear visibly frustrated. Perhaps he had changed, but Erich’s snide remarks confirmed that Ian was truly overwhelmed by seeing her again.
She had not expected to have a reaction to his reaction. She had not expected him to have a reaction. He had been so cold to her on that morning so many years ago...
But according to Erich, Ian had been so affected by her leaving that he’d forbidden his brothers from speaking her name. The knowledge of that felt warm and confusing against the jagged pain in her heart at seeing him again.
And now that the energy-filled activity of the last few hours—fighting Gareth’s men, racing through the forest, and making a new plan with her band—was over, she had no barrier between her mind and the memories she wanted to forget.
The only thing she could focus on for the next two hours was the burn in her legs as she clung to the horse beneath her. And the two very familiar arms that wrapped around her.
Lost in the darkness, her mind replayed their last goodbye.
She had left early in the morning, saying goodbye to the family in the back courtyard before riding Humphrey out the side gate where Ian waited for a final moment alone with her.
He had not kissed her. He had simply wrapped her in his arms once more, his eyes strained and distant.
She had turned back, as she rode away, to see him once more.
He did not call out to her. He did not raise his hand in farewell. He stood, alone at the gate, looking small and cold in early dawn mist. He stood there and watched her ride out of his life.
They were both heartbroken. She had wanted more, but she understood. She had faced the road ahead of her and returned to Lockwood.
She’d been certain he would at least write to her. Surely, after the friendship and love that they shared, they would remain close to each other.
But the letters never came.
He had accepted his father’s decision and done nothing to fight back.
Perhaps that was what had hurt the most. It was clear that he had not agreed with King Frederich, but he had not asked his father to change his mind. He had not fought for her to stay.
Robin shifted her weight again, keeping her balance atop Rowena. She could not lean back on Ian for support.
The rest of the ride took place in uncomfortable silence.
Rowena plodded along with ease, not bothered by the darkness or the extra rider, or the light rain that dripped through the canopy of leaves overhead.
The trees thinned as they finally neared their destination, opening up to a large bay on the southern shore. Despite the midnight hour, the port city ahead was alive with lights and activity. This city did not revolve around the sun, rather it was awake when the tide was high and asleep when the tide was out. Judging by the activity around them, the tide was in and ships were docking.
As Rowena entered the city streets, Robin reached forward, slipping her hands under Ian’s to take the reins from him. “Let me lead,” she said, though the words were not a request.
Ian relinquished control without a word. He had no idea where they were headed. But with his hands having nowhere to go, he simply kept them lightly gripped around the saddle in front of her.
Holding the reins, Robin guided Rowena through the cramped and muddy streets. As heavy sea storms had ravaged the coastline over the last several seasons, sailors and villagers had fled to this city, protected as it was by the long peninsula between the bay and the ocean. Unfortunately, the city had not had time to grow as quickly as its population had.
Robin led Rowena down side streets, past the main harbor, and deeper into the west neighborhood that rose over a rocky cliffside near the shore. She pulled Rowena to a stop outside a small, weathered inn. “Here,” she said, twisting back toward Ian.
He wordlessly took in the small stone building, sanded down by the salty winds and dripping with rain. It was likely not the type of establishment that a prince frequented. But he slid off Rowena without a complaint. His feet landed in the mud with a loud squelch.
He reached back up to help her dismount, but she shook her head. Gripping the front of the saddle, she swung her left leg over the horse’s back and gently lowered herself to the ground.
While it felt good to be off of the horse, her sore legs protested the act of holding her weight on their own. She gripped Rowena’s saddle for an extra moment as she stretched her legs.
