“You were. But I could feel the mass of hair beneath it when you fainted and I caught you. It was much more than you have now.”
She exhaled and shrugged. “It was too much. It would get in the way on the road.” She flicked up one of the short strands and added, “This is easier.”
“Practical.” He liked that.
“Wouldn’t want to be a liability.”
He frowned. “Are you ever going to let that go?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” She pulled herself up into the saddle. “Are you going to teach me anything else about storms? Or shall we spend the next leg of our trip in uncomfortable silence again?”
He stayed on the ground below her horse, the early afternoon sun haloing her.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not,” he shot back. “Silence doesn’t bother me. Is it the quiet or me that makes you uncomfortable?” She stared at him, her eyes narrowed and hands fisted tightly in her horse’s mane. He grinned, and she snatched up her reins.
It was plain she meant to end their conversation, but he lingered a moment longer. He smoothed a finger down her horse’s muzzle, and the pretty mare leaned into his touch. He rubbed gently, just above her nostrils, and her ears flicked with approval. He leaned in and murmured low to the horse, “Run well for her.” He gave the horse one of Jinx’s berries, and the mare pushed her nose into his hand searching for more. Roar was glaring when he looked up.
“Well?” she asked. “Are you going to teach me anything else?”
Once again, he found himself grinning. He was looking forward to wiping that haughty look from her face. “We’ll start your first lesson tonight when we make camp.”
“And what lesson would that be?” she asked.
“How not to die.”
*
Novaya’s hands shook as she told the story of Princess Aurora’s kidnapping. She was panting, having run all the way from the flower fields to scream the news to the soldiers standing guard atop the city walls. Several immediately set out on horseback, while another rushed her to the palace courtyard that was being decorated for the wedding, dragging her before the queen.
Nova did not have to feign distress or tears when Queen Aphra collapsed in the courtyard where she had been happily inspecting flower arrangements for a wedding that would never come to be. Even as Rora’s childhood friend, Nova had always found the queen frightening. She held too many secrets to ever be at ease with her ruler.
But now that strong, powerful woman was a broken heap of wailing mother upon the earth. The sounds that poured from the queen’s mouth pierced through to the bone and dried up the lies in Nova’s mouth.
The soldier next to Nova, a woman with bands on her uniform signifying thunderstorm and fog affinities, stepped forward and said, “We have a unit out searching already, Your Majesty. But we could use more eyes.”
The words seemed to bring the queen back for a moment. She nodded, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Yes. Take them all. Take whatever you need.” Then as if those words had stolen the last of her strength, she slumped to the ground, pressing her forehead into the dirt. Rora had written a letter to give to the queen, and it seemed to burn in Nova’s pocket. She had to get the queen alone as soon as possible to end her torment.
A horrified quiet reigned until Prince Cassius charged down the palace steps.
“Is it true?” he growled.
When no one answered, he screamed the words again and Nova forced herself to say yes.
He marched to stand before her, his face a mask of fury. Her insides roiled with heat. He hissed, “Tell me everything. Quickly.”
Her voice wobbled as she said, “I went out to pick wildflowers for—”
“I don’t scorching care about the godsdamned flowers. How many were there? What direction did they take her? Was she hurt?”
Nova swallowed, and felt her magic begin to climb up her throat and fill her lungs. She balled her hands into fists and clenched her teeth.
“Answer me,” the prince growled.
“Three. Maybe four kidnappers. It happened so fast. I don’t think she was hurt. But she was screaming. They—they bound her. Took both her and her horse. They went south. That’s all I saw. I ran to get help.”
He snapped a finger, and a soldier in Locke blue rushed to his side. “You have command, Ortuze. Find her. Slaughter those who dared to take her. I want their heads.”
The soldier turned to go, and Nova tried to put some distance between her and the prince, edging closer to the grieving queen. Before she got more than a step away, the prince’s hand shot out, shackling her wrist. Flames licked beneath her skin, begging to be set free.
To his commander, he said, “Search the palace too. Starting with this one’s room, in case she was in on the plot.”
Her heart dropped, and she gasped, stumbling as he pulled her back to him. “I—I would never. She’s my—”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Nova looked to the queen for help as two Locke soldiers surrounded her, but the woman was lost to the world, trapped by whatever horrors were trampling through her mind. Within moments, the Locke commander had dozens upon dozens of men leaping into action, including the Pavanian soldiers.
As Nova was led away to the palace, she was grateful the soldiers did not touch her. But it was only a small mercy as they kept their hands on their swords. Heart racing, she waited until they were inside the palace, and then reached into the pocket that held Aurora’s letter. She crumpled the paper in her fist, then slipped her hand free. With slow, measured breaths, she pulled on her magic, letting the heat flow through her hands.
If the soldiers noticed the smell of smoke, they did not react, as bit by bit the paper burned in her fist, and she allowed the ash to sprinkle onto the stone floor in her wake.
She would find another way to get word to the queen. First, she had to survive the prince.
*
Rora’s legs were stiff from the saddle, but she didn’t complain. She was too busy soaking up everything around her. The land, while still mostly flat, had become dotted with green hills. The road they’d taken from Pavan had become much more difficult to traverse a few hours past Death’s Spine. Ruined Road, the hunters called it. What once had been a long road of flat stones that led from Pavan to Taraanar was now pitted with holes or washed away altogether in places. The Rock made loud, metallic groans every time the wheels hit a patch of uneven road.