“We’re strolling down to the tip of the bay,” Vixie said.
The hunters joined them, setting down the path—all except Harrison, who wore an uncharacteristically dark expression. Aerity and Wyneth both stopped.
“Won’t you join us?” Wyneth asked.
Harrison stared at the backs of the other three hunters, lips pursed. “I think I’ll stay.”
Aerity reached for his hand. “Are you certain?”
He gave her fingers a quick squeeze and released. “Aye. Just . . . be careful. Both of you.” His eyes darted to the other men before landing on Wyneth.
Her cousin’s cheeks bloomed with color as she broke from his gaze.
“We’ll be careful,” Aerity promised him.
Harrison ran a hand over his cropped hair and left them to return to the commons.
“What was that about?” Aerity asked. “Did he have a row with one of the other men?”
“Nay, he’s grumpy when he’s tired.” But Wyneth appeared flustered. “Let’s just relax. Okay?”
Aerity rushed to catch up as Wyneth jogged down the path toward the two guards, Paxton, Tiern, Lief, and Vixie. The elder princess felt the opposite of relaxed. Vixie and Tiern tramped ahead, while the rest of them followed in awkward silence.
Aerity mumbled to her cousin, “For someone who was so against this hunt, Vix certainly seems fine with it now.”
Wyneth pursed her lips in worry as she gazed at Vixie’s back.
Eventually Aerity let herself enjoy the peace of the forest and warmth of the air, trying her hardest not to skim peeks at Paxton and the messy way he’d tied back his hair. Her hands itched to tidy it up for him. She also pretended not to notice how Lord Alvi continued to throw covert glances at Wyneth, who stared straight ahead, unflinching. When the Ascomannian lord caught Aerity watching, he jerked his head forward again as if he’d been scolded.
After fifteen minutes, the trees gave way to open land and skies, and an abundance of shimmering water stretching outward. Vixie began pointing. “This is the entrance to Lochlanach Creek. And see that bit of land out there? That’s the tip of the peninsula, so all of that over there is the bay. And then those two—”
“Isle of Loch and Red Crab Island,” Paxton finished for her.
He speaks, thought Aerity, just not to me.
They all stared out at the strips of barrier islands that protected their coast, along with hundreds of others farther out.
“I see a building on that one,” Lord Alvi said, pointing at the Isle of Loch. “It’s inhabited?”
The others shook their heads.
“It was used to store trade goods from the outer islands,” Aerity explained. “But it was damaged in a hurricane ten years ago.”
“I recall that gale,” Lord Alvi mused. “It reached its hand clear up to our seaboard. Nasty one, that was.”
Aerity remembered bits of being rushed down into the cellars, Vixie a toddler, and her mother very pregnant with Donubhan. The entire royal family had packed in. Even through the stones, they could hear the howling winds. To Aerity and Wyneth it had felt like an adventure. But lives and businesses were lost while she sat on the cold, stone floor playing pick-up sticks with Wyn.
Now Aerity watched Paxton’s back as he crossed his arms and stared out at the waterways. Vixie and Tiern began to search for hermit crabs along the shoreline. Lord Alvi took off his vest and boots, walked into the water to his waist, and dived in. Wyneth kept her back to him. The guards ignored all of this, surveying the woods behind them warily.
When Lord Alvi came up, shaking his hair, Aerity wanted to ask if the water was cold, but she knew his idea of cold was much different from hers. She wanted to enjoy the outing and the weather, but she couldn’t. All around her were the constant reminders of what each of them could not have.
She felt a sourness deep inside her, threatening to make her cry at any moment. She shuffled through the sand and pebbles, walking over soft mounds of seaweed, and eventually sat on a rock next to Wyneth.
“I need to lie down,” Aerity said. “My head is splitting.”
“Here, let me.” Wyneth reached up as if to massage her neck, but Aerity moved away, laughing.
“Nay, Cousin, you pinch.”
Wyneth giggled and lifted the hair from her own neck. “I can’t believe how warm it is.”
They stared out at small waves, the tide buffered by barrier islands.
Deep in the woods behind them came the sounds of movement—the crackle of twigs and rustle of leaves. Aerity and Wyneth stood at once, and five bows were swiftly drawn, arrows pointed at the tree line. The men spread, shielding the unarmed royal lasses.
“Seas, no, please,” Wyneth begged, grasping Aerity’s hand with all her might. The princess’s stomach had risen into her throat.
In seconds, a small figure came bursting from the trees, laid eyes on the hunters and guards, then gave a loud yelp and fell back, covering his face with an arm. It was a page boy from the castle.