“Princess, I swear by all the gods—” He cut himself off, helping me move away from the vomit.
I sank onto some stone steps, my stomach still churning.
Where were we?
I had just been trying to go across the yard. This didn’t look like anywhere I had ever seen. I was sitting on massive stone steps, a huge stone building behind me. In front of me were rows of half-timbered houses, stretching up three to four stories. The timber and plaster of several houses had been painted—ochre with cream, burnt sienna with a red so light it could almost be called white, dark-gray timber with light-gray plaster, contrasting colors that made the timber stand out from the rest of the house. Several of them had window planters with flowers flowing out of them. A few buildings had ivy climbing the brick walls, snaking up the sides and adding a splash of green.
“Finn, I’ve got her,”I heard loud and clear.
I felt Finn’s relief, then Griff berating him for attempting teleporting with me, especially today of all days. I blocked them out until they were just background noise as I put my head between my knees and waited for the nausea to pass.
He rubbed my back as I focused on my breathing. “So you want to learn how to teleport?”
“Not really.” My voice was muffled against my knees.
He chuckled, never ceasing the calming motions on my back. “When I left you this morning, you were tucked in your bed, safe and sound. How do you always end up where I least expect you?” He sounded like he was both exasperated and amused.
“Luck?” I offered weakly as I attempted to raise my head. Nope, bad idea.
He chuckled again. That was two in about as many minutes. I was on a roll. He continued the soothing motion over my back until I started to feel better.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Ventaris,” came the short reply.
Right. He had mentioned that last night. I tried to dredge up my mental map of Serentyn but couldn’t place this town.
“And where the hell is Ventaris?”
The corner of his mouth twitched up. “In Norethgale. On the northern border. Where were you trying to go?”
“Across the yard,” I admitted.
Something rippled across his face, too quickly forme to figure out what it was. He stood, hand extended to haul me to my feet, the sun shining down on him. “Come on, I’ll get you back.”
“Wait.” I lifted my hand to shade my eyes from the glare of the sun. “I’ve never been here.” I ignored his outstretched hand and pulled myself up by the banister. There was only so much help I could take at once. “Can you show me around before we go back?”
He looked torn.
I placed my hand on his chest, and I could have sworn his breath caught. “Please? I really do want to see more of my kingdom. And just a day away from all that…” I waved my hand in a vague motion encompassing the insanity of Valdris. “Clear my head. From the problem of the Veil and… everything else.”
Like the fact that I’d killed two men.
He understood instantly what I meant and I was grateful he didn’t address it. He just motioned forward with his arm, and we set off down the stairs.
The streets were similar to those in Valdris, as though they had been built at a similar time. Although this town was significantly less complicated to navigate, which made sense since it was by the northern ocean rather than built into a mountaintop. The ocean air smelled different than the one at Griff’s home. When I commented on that, he explained that it had something to do with the climate and wind patterns. The sea was rougher up here. No longer the smooth, crystal-clear waters, but darker and stormy.
As we walked the uneven cobblestone path, he told me of the various sections of the town. The streets we passed that reeked of fish were where the fishermen lived, and the flower sellers who specialized in making potions to heal sicknesses were a few blocks down. Over there was a booming metal-working trade, everything from big pieces like furniture, machinery, and weapons, to small, delicate things like jewelry. There was a thriving business for those with the talent of imbuing power into the things they created.
Farther out, I could see the apple orchards, the smell of fresh spring grass drifting toward us.
“They make a special drink here, from the apples, after they ferment.” He paused next to a street vendor and came away with two small glasses. Handing one to me, he clinked his against mine. “Bheatha.”
“Bheatha,” I murmured. I took a sip and spluttered a little as the alcohol hit my tongue. The second sip was smoother, kinder, and I could feel the apple flavor burst through.
As we walked on, the crowd thickened and he reached for my hand to keep us from being parted. His palm was rough, calloused from years of holding his sword. As the standard jolt zapped through me, I squeezed his hand involuntarily, a movement he returned. Emboldened by the drink, even after we had left the crowd behind, my hand stayed in his.
We continued walking hand in hand, and I felt like I was another person. So far away from the problems that consumed my every thought. The events of last night faded into the distance, as though they had happened to someone else. Here I was, just a girl, walking along with a handsome warrior. I hadn’t felt this free, this light, in a long time. And I knew it was due to him. The fluttering in my stomach was constant, increasing as he sent that private smile my way.
