"If you demand it." He paused. "We need to set out. You should pack what you need and say your goodbyes."
"Since you refused me a proper greeting, you can pack my elk."
"Are you ordering a Paragon around? A Solheart Paragon, at that?"
"Did you not just say you were my manservant?" I folded my arms, hiding my trembling fingers. "And I would have preferred you greet me with a kneel and a kiss on the hand, not by scaring me half to death."
He grinned. "I prefer it my way." He tilted his head, beckoning me to follow. "Stick close."
Fear trembled in my heart and limbs as I pursued him. Less for the lord who had wrapped his hands around my throat—and more for the radiant man striding ahead of me.
I storedmy belongings in my pack, taking care to fold and order them. An extra wool blanket, Liam's broken pocketwatch, a small painting I laid by my every bedside.
Father had bought it for me at a festival long ago. It depicted Tirnanog's great oak in shades of blue and purple. A group of foxes danced under its roots.
Liam sat cross-legged on his bed, watching me fold one of my gowns into neat little squares. "So . . . why do they think your Paragon will be able to save a fort if Killian couldn't?"
"I was wondering the same," I said, shifting on my bed to face him.
"Hm." Liam's pale-green eyes lit with mischief. "At least there's a silver lining."
"Which is?"
"The Paragon himself. He's more attractive than I was expecting."
I snorted. "Right. You and redheads . . ."
My smirk twitched into a frown. Gallivanting with the same gender earned you a death sentence from the church. Inquisitorshad burned many couples who refused to separate after the Empire had taken control of Aenir.
People judged Liam harshly already. Undeservedly. I hoped he only said such things in my company, lest they find another reason to condemn him.
"I'm right, aren't I?" Liam smirked. "And you get to cower under his cloak for months."
Rolling my eyes, I snapped my satchel closed. "Yes, the Paragon is handsome, but I have designs for Lais . . . "
Liam's face fell when I didn't finish.
My future was a blank parchment. It always had been, I supposed. An empty city, a missing person. No answers, no hope. No idea what tomorrow might bring.
"Mare . . . " Liam said. "Wait there." Grabbing his cloak, he flew out the door.
Standing, I walked to the mirror and tied my white locks into a braid. My deep purple eyes looked almost black in the quiet hostel room.
A knock echoed on the doorframe. Father stood there, running a hand through his short white hair. A heavy sage-green mantle hung around his shoulders—he hated the cold, too.
One arm was tucked behind his back, hiding something.
Leaning to the side, I tried to get a look at it, but Father shifted to keep his back hidden.
He'd returned from Tsuyan a couple of days back. The Tsuyan General, Yuudai, had denied Killian's request to send troops to the borders. A decision I imagined he regretted, now.
"So, you're leaving," Father said timidly. "I have something for you. There's a tailor here that I . . . " He cleared his throat. "It was meant for your thirtieth, but . . . "
"It's not like you to lose your glib tongue," I said.
"No, it's not." Running a hand down his face, he approached and pulled his hand from behind his back, revealing a parcel. "Open it."
Taking my strange gift, I set it on the vanity and untied the strings. The paper fell away, revealing folded cloth and hints of leather.
