She held up a hand. “You’ll learn, little one. There are forces at play bigger than any of us. And the more we fight it, the stronger they keep us in their grasp.” She shook out my coat and held it up for me, but not before I saw the tears glistening in her warm brown eyes.
I slipped my arms through it, sticking the small book into a pocket, and took a long look at her. “Come with me.” I heard the plea in my voice. I was begging her to not force me to do this. Begging her not to leave me. Begging her for any scrap of comfort she could give.
Nana sadly shook her head. “That is not my life anymore. When I left, I knew it was for good.” She rested her hands on my shoulders, looking me straight in the eye. “But Lexa, never doubt that I would have made the same choice every time. Everything that has happened, everything thatwillhappen, was worth it to save you.”
“Will I ever see you again?” I asked in a small voice, once again the little girl who ran into her arms with a skinned knee.
“No one knows what your path holds. There are many forks in your road. But if you find yourself in need of me, you know where I’ll be.”
“That wasn’t much of an answer, Nana.” My joke fell flat beneath my tears.
She let out a watery laugh, before brushing her eyes. She opened her arms, and for one last moment, I could be that little girl who needed her grandmother. We clung to each other, a lifetime of memories in the embrace.
Releasing me, her hands came to my slim shoulders as she took a long look, smoothing my braid one last time, before she gave me a gentle push toward Griffin.
“Take care of her,” Nana told him.
He nodded solemnly. “I will.”
As we walked past Nana’s garden where I had spent countless hours tending it at her side, I paused for one last look. Nana stood in the doorway of the only home I’d known. She touched her forehead, kissed her fingertips, clenched her hand into a fist, and then pressed it to her heart. She’d taught me enough of the old ways that I recognized it for what it was—a blessing for a warrior going off to war.
As we passedthe wheat fields stretching out endlessly, their honey stalks swaying in the breeze, my new companion was silent. I was by no means talkative, but there I was, walking off into the unknown with a stranger and I had to know something, anything about him.
“Do you make a habit of finding strange women and taking them back to your kingdom, Griffin?”
“You’re the first. And most people call me Griff.”
Griff. The name fit him. The broad shoulders, the way he carried himself as if it was he who was the weapon not the swords strapped to his back, the stubble on his chin adding a ruggedness to an otherwise put-together appearance.
“Lexa,” I said, before wincing internally. Of course he knew my name.
“Nice to meet you.” He managed to say it with perfect sincerity.
We lapsed into silence again, walking the roads I’d walked my whole life. Except that wasn’t going to work for me.
“What exactly is the Champion?”
“Someone who fights on your behalf.”
“I fight my own battles.”
“That does not surprise me.”
“Are you always this verbose?”
“Actually, I’m usually quite the chatterbox.”
I stopped dead. “Really?”
“No.”
He walked on as I let out a growl of frustration. “You’re really not going to tell me what the Champion is?”
He looked at me sideways. “I did. But to elaborate, and get semantics straight, it’s not ‘theChampion’ but ‘yourChampion.’” The corner of his mouth twitched at my confusion. “You’re the princess, heir apparent to the reigning power. Your grandfather, Zachariah, may be regent, but he’s just a placeholder until the crown chooses someone, presumably you. The proper title is King’s Champion or Queen’s Champion—or, in this case”—he made a little motion in my direction—“the Princess’s Champion.”
“Whatexactlydoes that entail? Explain in detail. Use multiple words.”
He slowed his steps and appeared to be thinking over the best way to answer. “It used to mostly be for times of war. Since we’re not officially at war, these days, it means I handle problems that arise.”
