Chapter Forty-Six
Fog
Servants, soldiers, and nobles all stop to gawk as we descend the stone stairs from the throne room down to the crescent-shaped driveway.
Thick fog swirls beneath the gray light of morning in an ominous scene where ten black carriages loom ahead of us.
Its eerie gray mist weaves around the legs of servants as they rush past the giant black geldings who make the carriages all seem small by comparison.
I release a breath at the large gold sigils emblazoned on the doors, as they will only tell our enemies who rides within, should we encounter any on the road to Annovia.
A chill rolls up my spine as the line of soldiers and witches stare from the tree line, where they shield us from whatever lurks in the pines.
Wheels creak with the amount of servants loading trunks into cargo holds, and I become so distracted by the bustling activity, I nearly collide with Lars’ shoulder when he pauses.
My heart aches as I stare up at the way his widened eyes dart between the black geldings secured before every carriage, though I cannot relate to this fear of horses, since all I feel is the urge to walk over and pet them.
I glance from him to the horses known for their stature, and the shine of their onyx coats many claim to be deceptive. The trait which apparently tricks some into believing they should be mild-mannered, while their haughty attitude is apparently less desirable.
Varic turns to Lars and takes his arm in hand before leaning over to share a private message.
I narrow my eyes at them in a question, and Varic does me the favor of whispering in my direction, “Your flower.” He gestures to the fog-covered ground just past the carriages.
My vision blurs and an overwhelming sense of something calls to me when I turn and look where he’s pointing, with something encouraging me to traverse the forest. Some voice chants for me to run away and join them—leaving me with an odd juxtaposition of longing and dread.
I shake my head to clear the message, then my heart leaps when Lars becomes a red blur and speeds off.
He stoops before the patch of flowers, and his chest expands with a deep intake of breath just above the nearest Dragon’s Fury.
My throat constricts as I scan the soldiers and Guards, hoping no one is witnessing his odd behavior, before he speeds back to us without seeming to have caught anyone’s attention.
He drops his head and pretends to inspect the embroidered design on my shoulder as he pulls in a deep breath near my head.
My heart hammers in anticipation of someone whispering behind their hand about the strange way my Guard is behaving, yet they all carry out their commands without sparing us a glance.
“It is the same scent,” Lars says. “I think you’re on to something, Leader.”
I spin to the side and pin Lars’ eyes until he notes my surprise, since I never would have guessed he had it in him to be this amenable to a theory posited by Varic.
“You mean the theory you mentioned?” Fray asks Varic, who nods.
“What I don’t understand is how her scent has been the same since the rest of us were appointed her Guard,” Lars begins. “If someone is infusing this essence with the aim of making her more compliant, I can assure you it has never been effective.”
I narrow my eyes at him in jest, and he mirrors me in protest.
“And if this is being done by someone observing her closely, you’d think they would have modified their strategy.
If the essence can influence you by being placed on your skin, perhaps they could up the dose to help make our job a little easier.
” He nudges my shoulder, then his face falls with mine. “Sorry. That was unkind of me.”
“You are correct. It would do all of us a lot of good if I were able to shut my mouth more often. Especially around him.” I nod toward Varic, and his ears flame crimson.
Loose gravel crunches underfoot as he pivots to face us.
“We will have to investigate further upon our return.” The rest of my Guards nod in agreement.
“Now, for the journey. Three of us will keep watch from inside the cabin, while the other two will remain outside, with one on the front and one on the back of the carriage. Every Guard will rotate except for you, Cirrin, as you will serve Tasch best by remaining with her.”
Cirrin nods, and my heart lurches at the sight of His Majesty striding from the Palace. We pause to wait for him to storm before us with his own Guards trailing behind him.
“I trust you will be on your best behavior.” His Majesty nods to me, and Raki flaps its wings. “Won’t you, my little witch?”
I bow as he leans in to whisper, “You will be mindful of your interactions with your Lead Guard.” He straightens to serve me with a pointed expression before glaring at Varic. “Drusilla will ride with you.”
My stomach plummets, and my magic digests Varic’s distress as it grows too vast for him to contain all at once.
I siphon his fear and despair, which arise under the threat that Drusilla will report anything she notices to the Emperor.
Then his frustration slams into me like a blustering wind the moment His Majesty strides toward his carriage.
I release a breath and open my mouth to say something, when the Emperor coughs, drawing our attention as it lasts longer than usual.
Wyrth rushes to his side, and Raki rotates to face me, while the Emperor’s Guards all sneer toward my own before returning to help him through yet another coughing fit.
The muscles in my legs quiver and affect my gait as we move toward our own carriage, which Cirrin must notice, since his healing chills my skin and keeps me from bringing attention to such weakness.
Varic halts before the coach, leaning in closely while speaking in a low tone, “Lars and I will take the first shift guarding from the outside.” Lars nods while his eyes flick over to the horses. “Malin, Fray, and Cirrin, you will ride inside with Tasch and Drusilla.”
A jolt runs through my chest when my name passes his lips, quickly followed by a dose of dread when he names her. Especially now that we will have to be mindful of every expression. Every word.
“You’ll take the front,” Varic says, turning to Lars, who blanches while pulling on his most pitiful, pleading expression.
“Come on, let him sit in the back,” Fray says as every eye in our party stares in surprise.
Purple mist ripples from Malin to dive underneath the carriage, where it displaces the fog to rustle within a pile of leaves until it uncovers a pine branch, which comes hurtling over to connect with Lars’ chest. He shakes his head at Malin as he snaps the branch into smaller pieces and stows them within his pockets.
I send tendrils of curiosity into Lars’ body, where fear and anxiety reign supreme, then siphon just enough before imbuing him with confidence.
I retract my power once his face returns to its typical pallid shade.
He and Malin share a meaningful glance before he spins to grab hold of the handle on the side of the carriage, which rocks to the side as he pulls himself up to the front bench.
Fray shrugs and climbs inside, followed by Malin, who sits on the opposite bench from him. I glance over at Varic and wait for him to take his own exterior seat, when the corner of his mouth rises in a small smile meant just for me.
He extends his hand in offering, and I mirror his expression.
My hand shakes as I move to place it over his, then revel in the warmth radiating through my fingers.
We step together, and he tenses his hold, ushering me up the small set of stairs to enter the space which will separate us for the first time since Fray flew me away.
A strange, prickly feeling crawls beneath my skin, with dread rapidly increasing my heartbeat in anticipation of our parting, keeping me from savoring the feeling of our rarely condoned contact.
He squeezes my hand as I bend to keep from hitting my head. Heat spreads across my side as Varic shifts to brace my hips, and I pause so long that Fray and Malin stare up in amusement.
I slowly inch forward, relishing in his touch as he leans in to keep hold of me, seemingly not wanting to let me go as much as I do not wish for him to do so.
His fingers glide along my side as I turn to sit in the middle of the back bench, ensuring I will not easily see out the window overlooking where he will be guarding. His opposite hand slides down my arm to keep hold of my hand, imbuing me with warmth I do not wish to lose in his absence.
A thrill jolts through my heart when his eyes ensnare mine. Because we are being too obvious. We cannot continue to behave like this. We cannot allow our gazes to linger more than expected. I force out a breath, and a sense of loss expands within my chest the moment I extract my fingers from his.
“Thank you.” My voice is low, and I clear my throat, trying to shift my tone from sounding so sultry.
A knowing smirk rises on one side of Varic’s annoyingly striking face as he backs out of the cabin.
Cirrin raises his brows when he climbs in next to take his seat opposite me, and I offer him a sigh in response.
Words are exchanged outside, and I turn with a pang in the center of my chest when Drusilla’s short white fingers curve to fit within Varic’s hand. Her gray eyes snatch hold of mine, and I make the mistake of staring as a satisfied sneer overtakes her long face.
An uncomfortable heat spreads up from my stomach, feeling like a Dragon about to breathe fire, with no amount of my power being capable of decreasing the level of toxic envy coiling its way from my heart to infiltrate my veins.
I clench my jaw so hard the ache is the only thing keeping me from screaming when I stare at the way his hand flexes within her grasp as she finally climbs inside. She swivels to sit across from me and extracts her hand to neatly fold it in her lap.
I clench my fists to keep from reaching forward to pry her hands apart, then make her wash them in freezing cold water. Because she doesn’t get to have him. She doesn’t deserve to keep any semblance of his warmth.
I tear my eyes away and stare down at the floor. My cheeks heat with the need to better control my reactions. It is not safe for me to behave so possessively. And I do not know his history. I do not know how many others might have given the same smile he shares with me.
Envy prickles under my skin with the thought of anyone else experiencing him the way I have.
The expert way he touches me, bringing me such comfort, meaning he has undoubtedly done the same with many others, and far more intimately.
And since I am strictly forbidden from fulfilling his physical needs, who am I to claim him as my own when he cannot be? Not really.
But he is mine. And I do claim him. He and I are blood-bound. He is mine for life. However long we survive. Varic is bound to me, and I to him—just not in the way I would wish. Not in the way he would only desire because I am the one who was sent to save him.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Varic says.
I nod at my lap while doing my best to avoid looking up at him. Then my eyes widen as the carriage tilts from Varic leaning in. He braces a hand on the bench where I sit. So close, his thumb presses into the excess fabric of my dress.
“Are you okay?” he asks with a hint of amusement.
I clench my jaw to keep from speaking and fail to ignore the weight of his gaze, which beckons with unnatural power to get me to meet it.
I don’t know who I think I am. I cannot fight this. So I give in and lift my eyes to his—awestruck by the ethereal glow of the sun casting through the fog outlining his frame and obscuring the majority of his face aside from a strip of light shining over his eyes.
“Just knock on the glass if you need anything.” I nod and turn away again.
But he won’t have it. He moves dangerously close—until his eyes find mine through the shadows beneath the light through the windows.
His presence alone holds me in this spell I have no hope of breaking. “I mean it. Promise me you will say something if you need to stop for any reason.” His expression is so earnest, I cannot possibly lie to him.
“Thank you.” My voice comes out gritty until silence grows between us.
He draws back, and the sun finds his eyes. “Please, do not make yourself suffer unnecessarily.”
His words unearth anger long-buried beneath the forced suppression of need after need.
“Of course, because I so often choose suffering. Especially when I am so freely given the ability to do anything otherwise.”
Varic’s jaw ticks as he studies me. “The difference being we have control of this carriage. So if you need something, all you have to do is knock on the window.”
“Right,” I say to the sorcerer reminding me of a lifelong history of neglect and abandonment.
He narrows his eyes as he reaches over to close the door, locking me in.
We brace as he climbs into the seat behind me, and I resist the urge to look out the window as I make myself promise I can make a request to get my needs met.
No matter that it’s entirely out of character, and not something I could ever do before, since Hendry would have cautioned me to do the opposite—a fact which stings the center of my chest.
“Cirrin?” His eyes meet mine with such warmth that it dulls the ache somewhat.
“Yes?”
“Would you—” I pause, until Cirrin’s dark brows raise in encouragement. “Would you please help me fall asleep?”
He reaches across the aisle to take my hands while Malin shifts to wedge himself in the corner and places a round velvet pillow over his lap. Cirrin nods in encouragement as I lean to lay my head on the pillow, with my eyelids drooping.
“Thank you,” I say to Malin, who merely nods, acting as if this is a common occurrence between us.
“Here.” Cirrin releases my hands as he lowers to one knee and unties the laces of my boots. He removes each and places them on the floor, then lifts his chin to Malin.
I cover a long, drawn-out yawn with my hand, then shudder as Fray unfolds a thin gold blanket, which he hands to Malin, who carefully drapes it over me.
My lips screw up in the corner in an effort to stave off whatever reaction threatens to surface now that my Guards are treating me with such compassion—an interesting shift after so few days of influence from Varic’s unconventional style of leadership.
Cirrin returns to his seat beside Drusilla with a satisfied smile. “Sleep well. I’ll help you wake at the first stop.”
Malin hums a tender melody as I nod in response, finding myself at a loss for words as the strange waves of sleep drift up my body.