The commander paused. “I must confess, Ryiah… I’ve been meaning to talk to you about what happened in the mountains. I know my men aren’t the friendliest sort, but you’ve done some great work. I’m very impressed.”
“Thank you, Commander.”
“It’ll be a shame when your time here is up.” She dismissed herself and returned to the hall.
“She doesn’t want you to return to the capital,” Paige observed. “Most of them want you to leave, but not her.”
“At least someone wants me here.” I sighed.
Derrick made an offended noise. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”
“Fine. Two someones.”
“What about Paige?”
My knight snorted. “Who would choose to stay in a wretched keep when they could reside in a palace?”
Chapter Five
Ryiah,
Blayne’s negotiations with King Joren have gone better than expected. The Pythian ambassador is set to spend a week in Devon during the winter solstice. Father has demanded your presence—a letter was already sent to your commander issuing six weeks of leave from the Ferren’s Keep Regiment.
I’d write more, but I haven’t had a moment to myself. I’ve spent half my time on boring patrols and the rest in Crown meetings. I miss the Academy. Our time in the apprenticeship was a reprieve. I would trade most anything for it now.
When you get here I promise to ask you all about your time in Ferren. If you met anyone half as unbearable as me. If you are happy. If you are sad. If you miss me…
Gods, I wish it were sooner.
Prince Darren of Jerar, second son of King Lucius III
I stared at the letter, rereading its contents for the tenth time that evening, and then folded it into a neat little square that I tucked back into my pocket. Then I took it out again. I couldn’t get over that last line: Gods, I wish it were sooner. I couldn’t keep the smile from my face.
Darren missed me.
“It’s a summons, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
“Thank the gods!” Paige left the bench to grab a flagon of ale.
“You really have to go?” My brother sat down beside me, his face a puzzle of emotion. “I only just arrived.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Alex got to have all the fun,” he griped.
“It’s a Crown order, not a request, silly. If I don’t...” I lowered my voice in conspiracy. “Paige will knock me over the head and drag me to the castle unconscious.”
“You wouldn’t do that, would you, Paige?” Derrick turned to my guard and she wiped the ale from her mouth with an evil laugh. He shuddered and looked away.
I touched his wrist. “Don’t worry, little brother, we’ll have plenty of adventures in the six weeks before I depart.”
“You are leaving?”
I looked up to meet Ian’s gaze as he walked past, his arms full of kindling.
“Not for a while. But I haven’t forgotten what you asked me. I’ll talk to him.”
The mage smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“What are the two of you hinting at?”
I gave my brother a nudge. “Nothing you need to worry about, Derrick. Just something I promised a friend.”
“Are you going to tell Darren the promise was to him?” My brother grinned wickedly.
I glared at Derrick as Ian retreated to the other side of camp. “Please don’t make this any more awkward than it already is.”
“That’s Ian, isn’t it? The one Alex wanted you to pick. Over the prince.”
“Yes.” My teeth clenched. “Can we not talk about this anymore?”
“Only if you tell me what you promised him.”
I groaned. “You’ve grown into a pest. I think Alex is my favorite now.”
“That buffoon? Never.” My brother prodded me with his fork. “Now spill, Ry.”
It wasn’t really a secret, I supposed. “Ian wants me to ask Darren to talk to his father about sending more coin north. To help the border towns—the ones that aren’t prosperous enough to garner support when the raids hit.”
“That’s it?”
“What did you expect?”
“A secret affair—” My brother ducked my fist, laughing. “Well, he is pretty.” He ducked again and this time was not so lucky.
“Pursuing Ian was a mistake,” I said quietly. “I almost lost one of my best friends because I was a coward.”
“Well then if it’s not about him, why the secrecy? Why be ashamed to have the others hear you want to help the north?” My brother lowered his voice. “It might help, Ry. I’ve tried talking to some of the other soldiers, but a lot of them are set against you. They think you are a privileged highborn now that you are engaged to a prince—it makes no difference that you grew up in Demsh’aa and your brother is one of them.”
I shook my head. “The king is furious with Darren. I promised Ian I’d ask, but I don’t think it is going to help any.” I pulled at a splinter that had gotten lodged in my finger. “I really wish they didn’t hate me. I thought it would get better after I proved myself but…”
“But you are engaged to a prince.” Derrick grew serious. “You haven’t heard the rhyme have you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s the most common verse they have: ‘north the poor and south the snout.’”
“The ‘snout?’”