Page 104 of Heartbreak Prince

The carpet glides toward the gate of Tularesk while I collapse against Vawn’s unconscious body, holding my side. Warm blood is blooming through my bandages, seeping beneath the protective leathers I wear. I must have ripped my wound open.

Severin is losing altitude quickly, barely skimming above the grass, limping on the last of his energy. We come up to the gate, where Tularesk guards dressed in pale blue uniforms await us. I brace myself on one arm and address them through the taste of my own blood.

“This man is Vawn Molloi, last prince of Belavrin, rightful heir to the throne, and I am his bodyguard. In the name of the treaty of Undayath, by the mercy of the Twin Lieges, we request sanctuary.”

21

Bundled in heavy white furs, I sit on one of the Tularesk magic carpets, side by side with Vawn according to the fashion in which the Tularesk people prefer to ride. The prince is wearing sleek black furs—the pelt of a moharganth, according to the captain who outfitted us for northern travel. The lower tusks of the great beast have been worked into the design of the coat, and they hang over Vawn’s shoulders.

I have never liked the slaughter of creatures for human benefit. Even my consumption of meat is not entirely guiltless, and I feel strange wearing the luxurious furs of animals that once roamed the harsh landscape of Tularesk. But it would be rude—and foolish—to refuse the garments. It’s bitterly cold here—dangerously so. Before we embarked on our carpet flight to the Celestial Seat of the Twin Lieges, the Tularesk soldiers warned us not to expose any part of our skin to the air for more than a handful of minutes at a time.

At the moment, only my eyes are showing. The area surrounding them is smeared with a special kind of black paint to help with the glare of the sun and to protect against the cold. Vawn wears the same paint, and it makes him look like a degenerate snow-pirate, which I thoroughly appreciate.

My side hurts. The medic at the gate outpost stitched me back up before we left, but he did a rather hurried job of it. I hope the new stitches hold until we reach the Celestial Seat. I don’t want blood to soak through my bandages and ruin the furs I’m wearing.

Our carpet has been rolled up and placed in an enameled case, which lies across my lap. Severin wore himself down to the very dregs of his energy, and he will need hours to recover. I find myself tracing the beautiful mosaic design of the carpet case with the fingertips of my fur gloves as we ride.

Since our carpet was spent, the commander of the gate outpost assigned us a military one. Tularesk carpets are threaded with very few unicorn hairs, so they fly at a level no higher than my shoulder. Their patterns are also different from the carpets of Belavrin, featuring snowy white, cloudy gray, and various shades of blue. Since the Tularesk carpets have very little consciousness, they each have a braided tether so the rider can guide them, much like the reins of a horse. They also have special reinforced pockets sewn to their surface where travelers can tuck a covered pan of hot coals, to provide warmth throughout the journey.

The carpet we were assigned is broad and steady, and we were able to take turns sleeping during the darkest hours of the flight. Vawn sat up while I slept with my head in his lap, and then we switched places.

During the first part of the night, we sailed past gray forests delicately frosted in white, like intricate layers of lace. I noticed several spots where the road seemed to have collapsed or washed away, as well as areas in the forest where it looked as if the trees had crumpled together and crashed into a hole. It was odd, but I had no one to ask about it. I didn’t want to call out to our escorts, the ten soldiers gliding alongside us on their own carpets, because my inquiries might wake Vawn.

Now that morning has come and we’re both awake, I can’t hold in my curiosity any longer, so I start with the first question on my mental list.

“Why aren’t the soldiers riding glacier bison or moon elk?” I murmur to Vawn. “In my world kingdoms class, we learned that those were the most common forms of transportation in the Tularesk military. Cheaper than carpets, too. I was hoping to see some.”

When Vawn doesn’t answer, I glance over at him. He senses my gaze and makes a rueful face, like he’s carrying information he’s reluctant to share. “I’ve mentioned that the Twin Lieges were seeking a closer alliance with Belavrin, but I haven’t told you why.”

“I assumed it was for the usual reasons—security, resources, trade.”

“We have trade agreements, and there is peace between us. But Tularesk wanted much more. And in return for their demands, they were offering the formula for a new kind of glyph paint invented by the researchers at their royal university. It’s invisible.”

“Invisible glyph paint?” I gape at him. “And it actually works?”

“Yes. They’ve been testing it in secret.”

“Vawn… if people could possess invisible glyphs, that would have so many ramifications for our entire society. The security risks alone—”

“I’m aware, and so was my father.”

“Still, it’s a huge advancement in glyph tech. I can see why your father might have wanted to claim it for Belavrin. What did the Twin Lieges want in return?”

“Land. A lot of it.”

“Why? Their country is huge.”

“On a map, it may look that way, but a large portion of it is uninhabitable because of the extreme cold. Tularesk already has to import most of its produce from Belavrin or Xarsi. The Tularesk people are experts at ice-fishing, and in the past they would get their meat from the herds of elk, bison, and moharganth that roam the land. But all that has changed. Their kingdom is starving, and it is very literally falling apart.”

“What do you mean?”

“How much do you know about tundra voles?”

“Practically nothing,” I admit.

“They’re ugly little things, but effective at burrowing through frozen dirt. In the past, they created small, shallow tunnels and rarely came above ground, mostly subsisting on ice beetles or the hardy fungi of this land. They consume some of the soil, too, for the minerals.”

“They sound harmless.”