Zach smirked. “You two were awfully close in the stables, that’s all.”
Anger coursed through me, anger at Amias for making Zach think we’d been engaging in any Lustful actions, and anger at Zach for thinking that I’d be distracted on the morning of my most important mission yet. I tightened my grip on Lorena’s reins and gave her a kick that sent her careening in front of Zach’s horse.
“Whoa, Vel,” Zach commanded, his horse sidestepping then coming to a halt. Brom stopped ahead of us.
“I don’t appreciate your tone or your insinuation.”
“And what insinuation is that?”
“That Amias seeks a different kind of partnership. That he and I are—” Heat crept up my neck. I cleared my throat. “Sexual partners.”
Zach simply stared at me, perhaps watching the redness crawl up my neck onto my face. “My apologies. That’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s not. And you’d be wrong anyway,” I snapped. “I don’t have time for petty desires.”
“Petty? My dear princess, it’s only human nature. But even if you two were only…‘sexual partners,’ why was he so possessive of you? The man was ready to run me through.”
“How should I know? Men are territorial about women they…” I trailed off. Zach’s intense gaze made the heat in my cheeks worsen.
“Men aren’t territorial about every woman they bed. Only some,” Zach pushed.
“I have never bedded Amias,” I hissed, almost lifting myself off Lorena’s back. “His jealousy doesn’t have anything to do with Lust. I told you, he—”
“Wanted your magic, yes.” Zach maneuvered his horse around Lorena. “Agree to disagree, I guess.”
“Don’t insult me.” I gritted my teeth. “I know what you’re implying. If Amias possesses Lustful intentions toward me—which I’m not saying he does—that’s all it is. What you’re saying Amias might feel for me is…”
Zach looked back at me, silently daring me to say the word hanging in the air.
So I did. “Blasphemous.”
“That’s really what you think?” There was something in the way his eyes held mine, unwavering, and his jaw so tight, that drew chills. It was accepting Amias’s challenge all over again.
I didn’t let the look intimidate me. This was the talk of a Romantica. I shouldn’t have been surprised, considering what his mother had been, but he wasn’t a Romantica. He’d joined the Legion, committed to our beliefs and our laws. He was a Royal.
“I know it.”
Zach stared at me for a moment longer then grinned. “Yes, of course. Blasphemy. It was worth it to see your face, princess. You could fry an egg on those cheeks.”
He’d been teasing me again. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or even angrier.
“Of course, if all that were true,” he added, “then I feel sorry for Amias.”
...
When we came to a forest, a miniature one by most Northern standards, we made camp. It was sundown, and Zach and I both agreed it was best not to travel at night. In fact, it was practically the only thing we’d agreed on all day.
Once our fire was strong and we had eaten for the evening, I offered to take the first watch, which Zach and Brom gratefully accepted. They fell asleep easily. As the fire came close to dying, I fed it more wood but struggled to keep my eyes open, so I moved closer to Zach to wake him.
I studied his sleeping face for a moment. He was very different from Kellian. His features were sharper, less rounded from youth, and gruffer, like he had seen and experienced things that aged him. Still, though, he did look a bit like a child. Then again, most people looked younger as they slept.
I placed my hand on his arm and was about to shake him, when his eyes snapped open. He moved in reflex, and before I could stop him, his hand was at my throat. He didn’t squeeze, just held it. I swallowed and didn’t dare move.
When his eyes focused on mine and recognition flitted across them, he retracted his hand. “Sorry.”
“I didn’t mean to startle you.” I instinctively touched my throat, even though I knew there’d be no bruise.
Zach sat next to the fire and dropped another log into the flames. “Nothing you need to apologize for—it’s just a trained reaction.”
I moved to my spot next to Bromley and lay down in my bedroll, using my arm as a pillow. “Where did you do your training? I heard it wasn’t at the Legion in Saevall.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. Fine. I’d figure it out later—one way or another. We’d be spending a lot of time traveling together. I turned away from the fire to face the darkness of the woods and closed my eyes.
“You Royals think you’re the only fighters in the land. The only ones willing to lay down their lives,” he said softly.
I wanted to reply that since civilians didn’t have magic, they had no business throwing away their lives when we could protect them, but sleep pulled me under, and I had no strength left to fight it.
…
The second day of our journey was not that much different than our first. Without incident, we traveled along the path, heading north toward the great Wu-Hyll Mountains. Though the farther we ventured from the walls of Myria, the less likely our luck would last. With the Forces’ creatures able to smell our magical Royal blood, it was a good thing we had kept our party so small—even with just one more Royal we would’ve already been attacked by now.
Worse yet, the darkening sky made it easier for monsters to venture out in the day.
The thought kept me on edge. Zach, however, seemed perfectly at ease. He would ride next to Bromley, giving him tips on riding, on swordplay, even on hunting. But his conversations with me didn’t progress much. They always ended in some kind of disagreement. As the day wore on, eventually we reached a point where no more than one or two lines at a time were said between us. I wasn’t sure which was worse, a heated conversation like we had yesterday, or none at all.
That night he offered to take the first watch, and Bromley and I played a game to see who would take the second.
It was an old children’s game Brom had taught me after he became my page. I’d never known many games growing up—even Gelloren had to show me how to play cards—so I cherished the few that Brom had brought into my life.
The game, called Bac-Chat, started with the two of us holding each other’s hands as tightly as we could, then we would count to five. On five, we would release each other and make symbols with our hands that represented one of the five structures in the game: a blacksmith forge, an apothecary, a castle, a chapel, and a tavern. The person who finished their structure and grabbed the other’s hands first, won.
I’d attempted a castle—index, pinky, and thumbs pressed together, with the knuckles of the two middle fingers touching—but Brom grabbed my fingertips after pulling off a brilliant blacksmith forge.
“Ha! Bac-Chat!” Brom said, squeezing my hands.
I groaned.
Zach watched us, and his pointed gaze felt almost too familiar to me now, but he stayed silent, content to observe. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder what he thought about Brom and me, since we did not have a normal Royal-servant relationship.
“Best two out of three?” I suggested.
“Not a chance. Give it up. You lost.” Brom grinned, settling down in his bedroll.
I hated having second watch, as it meant two two-hour naps instead of a nice, long four-hour doze. But I fell asleep quickly, and before I knew it, a hand was on my arm, shaking me.
“Ivy,” Zach’s voice whispered in the darkness. “Ivy.”
I opened one eye, and his face swam into view. “Time already?” I asked blearily.
“No, it’s… You were talking in your sleep.”
I sat up, my braid dropping over my shoulder. “What did I say?”
It was a bad habit I had, talking in my sleep, but I usually didn’t do it unless I was under a lot of stress. Not that traveling to prevent a fearsome dragon from hatching and scorching the world wasn’t stressful.