Chapter Three #2
Tormik releases her and turns to me. “We’ve prepared a feast tonight, and a grand celebration tomorrow. The servants will show your party to—”
“That won’t be necessary,” I cut him off, waving a hand. “We return to Arbinj within the hour. Enough time for the princess to pack her belongings.”
In my periphery, Mayah gapes at me, her energy signature pulsing in outrage.
Tormik’s face reddens, knuckles blanching around his staff. “We have spared no effort in preparing for this occasion. You insult both my daughter and Tundrayn,” he hisses.
“That is not my intention,” I reply, hoping to appease him. If not for the waterwielders here, I’d have knocked him onto his knees with his own staff. “I was tasked with delivering the princess immediately. Your efforts are appreciated and not unnoticed.”
Angry muttering drifts through the charged air. I cast a narrowed gaze around the hall. Baleful glares and open hatred greet me in the crowd.
Fuck. We need to leave immediately. “I’ve also brought the first shipment of food stores. Plenty of meat and grains.”
The hall quiets. Starving heathens. My father’s voice flits through my mind, a flicker of pity blooming in my chest. There are children here.
A man stalks over, tall and broad, dark hair hanging in long braids over his shoulders. He wears shining armor over blue and white furs, narrowed eyes fixed on mine and Mayah’s still-joined hands.
He’s going to be a problem—it’s clear in the tight set of his jaw, in the angry pulse of his energy signature.
“You can’t expect the princess to be ready for travel in an hour,” he snarls, stopping before us.
“You are?” I ask, lips curled with disdain.
“The captain of the royal guard.” His eyes flit to Mayah, gleaming with possessiveness, and a torrent of anger surges through me at his entitlement. I just slid a betrothal ring onto her finger—my ring or not. Who the fuck does he think he is?
A powerful thunderclap rings out, followed by a quick flash of lightning. Mayah squeezes my hand, and my head snaps toward her. Did she mean to do that? Was it a plea to stop? She’s not looking at me, though, her wide gaze fixed on Tormik.
“It’s all right, Father,” she says, voice steady. “I’m ready to begin my new life.”
I snatch the opportunity to lead her down the hall, my soldiers flanking us.
“Guards,” the insufferable captain calls from behind us. “Accompany the princess.”
My feet stop of their own accord, irritation flaring in my gut.
“That won’t be necessary,” I grunt without turning. “She is a princess of Arbinj now. She is under my protection.”
“She is still a princess of Tundrayn,” Mayah snaps, glaring up at me. My lips twitch. “Your guards may accompany me, but so will my father’s.”
I study her closely, this bold and unapologetic woman. Faramir will have his hands full with her. I nod, allowing the Tundrayni guards to walk alongside us, though I’m not sure the princess would’ve accepted anything less.
When we reach her chambers, I inspect the room to ensure it’s free of threats.
I’d be shocked if there weren’t dissenters enraged about the alliance—there certainly will be in Arbinj.
Her chambers are simple—a thick fur blanket atop a large bed, a dresser, and a small sitting area.
I don’t know what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t so … stark.
After her handmaids file out of the room, the only remaining energy signature is hers. Just to be safe, I scan the closet and washroom once more. When I finish, the captain of the guard checks her room again. Useless idiot.
Mayah ignores both of us and closes the heavy door in our faces.
I’m left standing in the corridor with the captain—Daak, she called him—exchanging heated glares while we wait for the princess.
“Do you know Mayah well?” I ask casually, leaning against the ice-cold wall.
A muscle jumps in his jaw, and a spiteful delight warms my bones against the chill.
“No,” he finally says, lips set in a grim line.
My neck prickles.
I study him closely. He’s handsome enough. Around my age. “You seem rather concerned about her.”
His hands clench into fists. “Just doing my job. Nothing more.”
Tiny invisible needles jam into the back of my neck.
I grit my teeth against the sensation, willing my shoulders not to tense.
Definitely something between them. Skies, I hope Mayah wasn’t foolish enough to sleep with him.
She’ll be subjected to the purity test in Arbinj.
Faramir would send her back—assuming my father would even allow her to return.
There’d be no more alliance. And this little excursion into Tundrayn would’ve been a massive waste of my time.
Speaking of time—she’s been sequestered in her chambers for a while. How much is she packing? If not for her energy signature moving about the room, I’d have suspected she tried to escape.
Finally, her door opens, and the princess emerges, dressed in a simple wool tunic and leggings. She nods at the captain but doesn’t spare me a glance before striding down the hall, head held high.
We reach the icy courtyard where the nobles and Tormik are lined up to bid her farewell. Father and daughter share another tense embrace while I wait near the royal carriage.
Tormik murmurs something in her ear, and Mayah stiffens and nods, lips pressed together tightly.
It seems having a terrible father is something we have in common. Does Tormik not fear for her safety? He’s sending her alone into the literal arms of his enemy.
That’s not my problem, I remind myself as she glides toward me.
I help Mayah into the carriage, and we leave the capital behind.