Glow (The Plated Prisoner #4)

As soon as we’re all situated, the five of us plus a few guards at our back begin to make our way across the bridge ahead.

Digby stays faithfully at my right and slightly behind me, while Slade rides just beside me at my left. Judd and Lu lead the way, while guards trail behind us. Even with this many of us, our party is small compared to what a normal royal enclave would be. I don’t think Midas ever traveled without a host of guards, though perhaps that’s because everything he owned was gilded, and he had no real power of his own to protect his stolen wealth.

Slade is a force all on his own.

We travel over the bridge, passing the long stretch of moat, and then we breach the top of the grassy hill, where the city opens up beneath us like a perfect picture. Rivers are everywhere, winding through the city, spilling into lakes both big and small.

There are boats everywhere too, and I can see several areas of river docks and bridges. The houses seem to be built so close to the water that people have docks for gardens and boats instead of horses. Some of the buildings are even built up on posts, right on the water. And all along, the ground is green and the air is warm and wet, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.

As we begin to make our way down, grass hugs the winding line of the road, and trees are speckled along the hills, spread out enough to breathe. To our right, far enough that I can’t quite hear the rushing water, are waterfalls that pour from the side of the mountaintop at least a hundred feet up. Water pitches down in a plunge of white froth, creating fractured rainbows within the clinging gray mist.

I can’t see the bottom of the falls since it’s blocked with trees, but the water carries itself to me, the river stretching out to greet the road. Just a stone’s throw away, it winds alongside the path before splitting itself in several different directions. At the base of the hill, I can see where it branches off throughout the city, feeding all of the massive waterways cut into the land.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much green or so much water in my life.” I turn around to look at Digby over my shoulder. “Are you looking, Dig?”

“I’m looking, my lady.”

Beaming, I turn to Slade, finding that he’s already watching me. “Such a pretty view.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he says.

Being out here is sublime, with the sun on my scalp and the fresh air in my lungs.

When we make it to the bottom of the slope where the land levels out, the road and the river both swerve toward the largest lake. “It’s called Compass Lake,” Slade tells me. “See how it’s circular save for that point there?”

My eyes track the line from the lake that seems to stretch out like a prong, pointing back toward the castle.

“Compass always points us the way home,” Lu calls back.

I glance at Slade curiously. “Is it home to you? Brackhill?”

His face grows contemplative for a moment. “I don’t think anywhere in Orea will ever truly feel like home.”

I nod in complete understanding, because I’ve always felt the same. But this place, I think it could feel like almost home. I think it could feel like enough.

Though nothing will ever really compare to Annwyn. I may have been taken away as a child, I may have forgotten most everything about it, but I still remember the feel of it. But maybe that’s just what home is. A feeling.

The closer we get to the river, the more people we see. At first, there are just a few carts and horses that pass us by, but soon, we’re right in the hub of activity, where the city is bustling.

Fishermen pull in their nets from stretched out piers. Shop buildings are lined up one after another along the street, their backs facing the lake, and their fronts made of smoothed stone the color of dolloped cream, with roofs pitching back straight to the water. Almost all of them have their doors flung wide open, probably to feed the fresh breeze in. Without the soft wind drifting off from the water, the humid, warm air would feel much more stifling. As it is now, there’s a perfect balance of warm and cool.

The moment people realize that their king is in their midst, there’s a concentric effect that surrounds the city. Like a ripple, people start to call out or bow or cheer or line up. It’s not just King Ravinger they call for either. Both Judd and Lu are apparently well known too, because the people seem to respect and recognize them just as much.

But I see it. The moment their excitement at seeing the army captains and their king shifts to something else. The moment when they spot me. There’s a definitive stiffening that treads over the crowd, a rigidness to their stares and tight mouths moving, and I hear snatches of those tense words the further we go down the city’s road.

That’s her—the golden saddle.

She killed King Midas.

She stole his magic.

What if she steals our king’s magic too?

I jolt on my horse so hard that I pull against Honey’s reins too tightly, making her jerk to a stop. Two of the guards instantly come up on either side of Slade and me, as if to form a barrier between us and the crowd as their proclamations continue to be voiced. I loosen the reins, and Slade comes closer, while I yank up the hood of my cloak.

“What do they mean?” I ask, eyes spinning all around me. Even with Judd and Lu in front and the guards at our sides and back, I still feel exposed to this shock of impliable judgment. “Why are they saying I stole magic?”

I can see Slade’s hold tighten on the reins, see his hesitation in the tic of his jaw muscle. “That’s the story that’s spread from Fifth Kingdom,” he admits. “The story that Queen Kaila has helped spread.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” I practically hiss between my teeth.

“I didn’t think this rumor was so widely accepted.”

I look around at the leery faces as they strain to see me as our horses pass. “I’d say it’s pretty damn accepted, Slade.”

He can’t argue otherwise.

“Do you want to go back?” he asks.

I start to nod, but then, I stop myself.

I’ve always had to shy away from crowds, always had to fit into Midas’s narrative. And now, even though he’s dead, he’s still steering my public reputation.

For ten years, he took my power and pretended it was his own and now…

He’s still taking. And yet, they’re calling me the thief.

My power has never been my own, and for the first time, when I’m finally proud of it, when I’m finally mastering it, he’s tainted this too. Made it seem like I took it from him?

The thought makes my blood boil so hot that the backs of my eyes sear with moisture.

“No,” I say definitively, expression hardening. “I’m not a thief, and I’m not going to hide.”

I’m not going to let Midas use my gold-touch to his death’s advantage.

Pride flickers over Slade’s face as I shove back my hood, letting it drop behind me. “I’m not going to run away like I’m guilty,” I declare, sitting up straighter. “Let them look.”





CHAPTER 48




AUREN



“You were right,” I say across the long table. “The Burnt Cat really is the best.”

Judd beams at me, lifting his tankard up in a toast. “Told you so. Best wine in Orea.”

Nodding, I help myself to another drink, only to realize it’s empty. I frown at the bottom of my wood cup, as if the sweating grooves inside will somehow produce more deliciousness. I’m vastly disappointed when it doesn’t.

“I ran out.”

“Would you like to have more?” Slade asks, though how I hear him inside such a noisy tavern, I’m not sure.

“Yes, please.”

Judd led the way straight here, and the tavern owner quickly brought us into this private seating area in the back. The lighting is low, a fresh breeze coming in from the window behind me, and our round table is blocked by stacks of wine barrels that smell amazing.

I have to admit, the wine has helped my mood.

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