“Of course.Why wouldn’t I?Are yousuggesting I should quit?”she demanded, and didn’t wait for ananswer.“Now?When so many have sacrificed so much?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, you said I was a soft, spoiltprincess.”
“That was before I knew you.”
“What about all the others who think theyknow me, who think all women weak and incapable of anything morethan looking pretty and birthing babies, which is no simple task bythe way.If I quit now, I’d only be proving their baseless opinionshad some merit.”She stood at her full height and stared himstraight in the eyes, the fire back in hers.“I can do this,” shesaid.“I will, with or without your protection.”
“I’m not withdrawing.Not from the race, andnot from my oath to your father.”
“Or from your reward of one hundred goldpieces.”
Aleksi bit back his grin.“Which I onlycollect if you return to your father uninjured and alive.”
Sahar sat cross-legged on her bedroll,drinking wine straight from the skin.After leaving Munir at thecheck point, where it was determined he had a dislocated shoulderand several broken ribs, she and Aleksandr had ridden hard, makingthe night’s camp as the sun sank below the western horizon.Evenafter changing into dry clothing, she was still half numb withcold, and her belly was only half full after eating her sparse mealof jerky and dates.
Her heart felt wholly and completelyempty.
“It’s my fault,” she told Aleksandr, who’dlaid his bedroll down next to hers and was drinking liberally fromhis wineskin as well.“All of it.”
“All of what?”he said.
“Munir, Kedar, all of it.”
“Did you cause the river to swell?Did youloosen the log from its mooring and cause it to go tumbling downthe river to hit Munir and Kedar?”
“No.”She shook her head, and her vision swamas a warm flush of heat spread from her belly to her head.
“Then you didn’t cause any of it.”
His low, rumbling voice echoed in thecavernous maw of her chest, and she had the sudden urge to crawlinto his lap and curl up in the refuge of his embrace, to breathein the earthy scent of man and sweat, horse and leather that wasAleksandr.To lay her ear against the solid expanse of his chestand listen to the strong, steady beat of his heart.She tookanother draught of wine instead.
“But I did,” she said, recalling the threadof her thoughts, their conversation, with muddled difficulty.“Munir only rode in this race to protect me.He would be back atthe palace, fit and uninjured, guarding my family and basking inHalah’s adoration if not for me.”She sniffed back unwelcome tears,and hiccupped.“Ke...Kedar would still be alive too, sa...safe andco...comfortable in the royal stables, not bu...buried beneath ahasty grave of brush and bramble.His bo...body’ll be gnawed uponby scavengers until there is no...nothing left but bl...bleachedbo...bones.”
Aleksandr’s face loomed close, and she swayedand braced herself with her hands to keep from falling back ontoher bedroll.
“Don’t blame yourself,” he said, as sheslowly straightened.“People do what they will do, what they feelthey must.You felt the need to ride in this race, and so didMunir.You ride to prove yourself to a world that does not valuewomen as you think it should, and Munir rode to prove himselfvaluable to your father and your family.You couldn’t’ve stoppedhim anymore than he could’ve stopped you.”
“What about you?”she asked.“Why do youride?”
“I told you, for the coin, to return to myhomeland and build a stable to rival a king’s and raise afamily.”
She stared intently at the stubborn set ofhis jaw, the firm line of his mouth, the hard glint of his eyes.Her own vision blurred slightly, and yet she had never seen him soclearly, the pain of a young boy set aside by his father.The shameof a favored prince lowered to a common stable hand.Thedetermination of a man to prove himself to a world that consideredhim nothing more than a bastard.
“No,” she said, reaching out and laying herhand on his.“You ride to prove yourself as worthy as any royal, tobuild a stable to rival not any king’s, but your father’s.You rideto prove him wrong for casting you, his firstborn son, aside.Hewas wrong.So very wrong.”
The hand beneath hers turned, and twinedlong, strong fingers through hers.
“You are a son any man would be proud of,Aleksandr, firstborn son of Maksimillian,” she whisperedfiercely.
Aleksandr lifted their joined hands andlowered his head, brushing his lips against the backs of herknuckles.“You are a woman equal to any man, my tigress.”
His gaze held hers for a long moment, intentand serious and a little sad, and then he let go of her hand, andshe reeled back at the vivid memory of another hand letting go ofhers.A chill as cold as death passed through her.She shuddered,shivered, and her teeth chattered.She may have helped saveAleksandr and Munir, but she hadn’t been able to save Ommar.
“You need to stay away from me,” she said,scooting to the far side of her bedroll.
“Why would you say that to me now?”
