Everything that had occurred since he landed on this barbaric chunk of land had pushed him to her. The scout, the nudge to Midpath, happening upon the prince only to be attacked by her. It was all too perfect to be taken as anything other than fate. Especially considering his lost dagger. There was no way that was a coincidence.
She was either an exceptional liar, or she’d been telling the truth about finding the dagger in the armory. Given how easily flustered she was, Jaren’s gut told him it was the latter. It was as if fate had dropped the dagger at her feet so that years later, she would be tempted to steal a matching one, ensuring he’d follow her and lead them to this exact moment.
That exasperating tug he couldn’t rid himself of? It meant something. She had to be important.
So, bracing himself for the fight he knew she’d give, he forced himself back into the miserable bustle of the city streets to buy a larger pack and supplies. He’d need food for two, an extra flask, and probably some extra materials for her monthly bleeding, just in case.
On his own, he didn’t usually carry much. Sleeping on the ground didn’t bother him, and it was easy to catch food along the way. But he wouldn’t be traveling alone this time, and once he had her with him, he couldn’t risk any delays, hunting included.
He didn’t know her role within the Matherin borders but given her recent travels with the chinbi srol and his group of merry guards, she wasn’t just some nobody to them. He had no idea how long it would be before someone noticed her missing and raised an alarm.
It had taken a couple of hours to get everything done. Besides purchasing basic supplies and food, he’d last minute decided to buy a few extra pairs of clothes. It’d taken the majority of his coin. He’d barely have enough left to stock up one last time in Eastshore.
After Jaren had everything he needed, he made sure to pinpoint a convenient stable with a mount capable of bearing two riders and planned the best way back out of the city. There were guards at every gate, so no path was going to be without its challenges, and it put him on edge. There were so many ways this could go wrong.
Although the quickest route would be to knock her unconscious, restrain her, and throw her ass over the horse, he obviously couldn’t ride through the city that way. No matter who she was, someone was bound to notice and report such a sight.
He was somehow going to have to persuade her to go with him willingly, and he honestly had no idea how to go about convincing her. She had no reason to trust him, and although he begrudgingly respected that—he did threaten to bury a blade in her heart—it was going to prove rather inconvenient.
She couldn’t have been more than a few years younger than him, which meant she’d basically been raised by humans. She, at least, knew she wasn’t one of them, but she’d also made it clear she didn’t know much else. Gods, she didn’t even speak their native tongue. He had to hold out hope he could feed her information to pique her interest enough to leave.
Jaren needed to tempt her to the point she’d risk trusting him enough to leave. The idea had his entire body tight with tension. He wasn’t known for his ability to connect with people. Quite the opposite. Jaeros had tried to instill communication skills into his repertoire, but he’d just never cared. Until now.
∞∞∞
It was late into the evening when he finally made his way back to the training area and peeked into her window. The room was empty. He stole a glance into the other to find it empty as well.
Fuck.
He took several deep breaths to refocus. It’d be fine. She’d return eventually, and even if she didn’t, he knew without a shadow of a doubt he’d be able to track her again. Her scent was practically engrained in his senses.
He slipped back through the unlatched window—a stupidity he’d make sure to throw in her face later—and slunk over to the chest he’d seen her pull his daggers from before.
It was obvious she’d set them inside with care, and his chest hummed with approval. His blades were his most priceless possessions, and it pleased him immensely to know someone else saw them for the treasures they were.
His hands shook, and his heart felt like it was in his throat when he picked up the one tucked safely in a simple, leather sheath. Jaren hadn’t seen it since the night he’d lost it.
Touching it was like reliving his worst nightmare, and he swore he could still taste the thick fear that had choked him that night. He’d been just a boy, but his failure had triggered a domino effect of events no one had known how to fix. The taint, the growing unease, the death, all of it stemmed from his inability to save his best friend’s life.
Attaching the sheath to his belt, he couldn’t bring himself to pull it out just yet. He knew he wouldn’t be able to trust his emotions if he did, and he needed to keep a clear head. He grabbed his other, the one that had served him well over the years, and placed it at his other side. Feeling the weight of them at his sides was surreal.
He left her room and circled the building. If—no, when, she returned—he’d need to confront her outside. Jaren truly hoped he’d be able to reason with her, but just in case he couldn’t, he needed the freedom to restrain her since she’d be sure to put up one hell of a fight.
But even if her blood was useless, the little star deserved to be with her people. She deserved to learn about what she came from and not have to hide her identity. She might not see it yet, but he’d make her understand, even if he had to whisk her away against her will to do so.
VERA
“Almost two decades ago, Bhasura was hit with massive civil unrest. The citizens were unhappy with how King Vesstan and Queen Vaneara were ruling, and a rebellion formed. They tried to usurp those in power, and it ended with major bloodshed on both sides.
“You see, the rebels didn’t just want the king and queen out of power, but every noble who had supported them. The queen was killed in cold blood, and entire families were wiped from existence. Men, women, and children. They showed no mercy.”
Vera sat transfixed. Once they’d finished dinner, they’d shown her through a doorway to the right that led to a sitting area before the largest hearth she’d ever seen. She’d never been more thankful for anything as she was that fire because after the emperor had dropped his I-know-who-your-family-is revelation, she’d felt cold as ice.
He was lounged across from her, an ankle crossed over a knee, completely at ease with his story. Prince Eithan sat to her left, leaned forward, elbows on his knees with his chin resting on his clasped hands, watching her as she listened. His unwavering attention made her uncomfortable at first, but she quickly became so invested in what the emperor was saying, she almost forgot the prince was even present.