CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
ALYSSUM
The unassuming village seemed to huddle amongst the trees, made up of crooked wooden cottages just as stubborn as the roots that popped up from the ground around them.
Each was built low with a steeply pitched roof, and uniform in their brownness and lack of adornments.
Rotting fences tangled with brambles lined the uneven road, sticking up from yellowed grass and mud puddles.
Smaller and less well-off than Grenythwood Village, though equally grim.
The only oddities of note were the strange markings carved into the wooden beams of each dwelling.
They consisted of harsh, angular lines, intersecting and weaving together.
I’d never seen such a thing before, and if I weren’t too preoccupied familiarizing myself with the layout of the village, I would have liked to have asked about them.
The paths between the buildings were narrow, and I imagined myself sliding through them in the cover of night, attempting to find an abandoned dwelling I might take shelter in once I managed an escape.
I pursed my lips as I considered the stupidity of that idea; Vayen would likely rip the village apart searching for me, and I doubted I could evade her for long.
No, if I managed to vanish from her sight, I would have to slip away into the gnarled wood looming over Cobble Crossing.
I might succumb to the elements, or a pack of wild animals disturbed by my trespass, but both would be preferable to crossing the Threshold.
Vacant eyes, bottomless water, and a creeping, unyielding cold that threatened to replace your memories with nothingness.
Even if the Threshold hadn’t meant to harm me the first time, that did not mean she would welcome me the second.
“You, of all people, cannot cross the Threshold. If you do, you will not return unmarred.”
Bjorn’s warning echoed in my mind. I’d thought it unnecessary at the time, given that I had no intention of returning. But now? With a too-warm arm wrapped around my waist, intent on forcing me through the gloom?
It didn’t matter, I reminded myself as I shooed the memory away; I had promised myself I would never journey through again, and I’d meant it.
Perhaps I had grown accustomed to the sparseness of Grenythwood Village’s streets, but there were more villagers out and about than I’d anticipated.
An elderly man stood not far off, holding his buttonless coat together with one hand while his other clasped the back of a boy who couldn’t be past his tenth year.
The child, whose features were obscured by a knitted cap and matching scarf, cradled a snoozing chicken.
The boy’s large eyes snapped to my bindings before chancing a glance at my face.
The curiosity or amazement I would have expected never surfaced.
Instead, a muted expression mirroring the wariness of the man ushering him along the road was the only greeting we received.
Rummy slowed as the two walked by, his earlier trot replaced by more deliberate steps. Those silver ears twitched forward as his gait became almost languid, long strides serving to exacerbate the rippling of his muscles beneath my legs. Before I even had a chance to tense, Vayen pulled me closer.
I glanced up at her questioningly, a protest of some sort hovering on my tongue, but she wasn’t paying me any mind.
Instead, I followed her gaze to a group of women who studied us from a nearby porch.
The lot of them shared small features, brown hair, striking green eyes, and a penchant for gossip, it would seem.
The group dropped the baskets slung over their arms in unison, exchanging hurried whispers as they gaped at the both of us.
“Acquaintances of yours?” I mumbled under my breath.
“Unfortunately.”
I bit my lower lip to dissuade the small smile her curtness prompted, but released it when Vayen cleared her throat.
She released the lead I was convinced she held for show and began rummaging through a pocket with her now free hand.
Unthinkingly, I gripped a fistful of Rummy’s mane as I whipped my head forward.
I’d been so focused on the passersby, I hadn’t noticed we’d approached a stable.
I peered past the wide-open doors, into the darkness that reeked of damp straw and animal.
The dark brown beams that made up most of the structure were marred by grooves and knots, and the roof sagged slightly as though it needed to be serviced.
I couldn’t make out the stalls in the dim lighting, nor did I notice the built man with long brown hair leaning against a post until Vayen withdrew coin from her pocket and he began to near.
I inhaled sharply at the realization that he’d been watching us, perhaps assessing this behemoth of a creature Vayen insisted was a horse.
Without prompting, Rummy’s entire body shifted as he lowered himself to the ground. I stifled the yelp that bubbled up my throat, grabbing a second handful of mane even though Vayen’s grip on my middle was so tight I’d sooner fly away than fall off.
With the speed of a shadow, I hopped onto my feet, relishing the sensation of solid ground beneath me.
My thighs and lower back burned from the constant tension of trying to stabilize myself while riding, my knees felt decidedly weak, and—oh, stars above—I desperately needed one of Nora’s massages.
I stretched my neck and rolled my shoulders with a groan, all the while holding my bound wrists to my chest to stave off the chill that cloaked me in Vayen’s absence.
“Just for the night,” she said as she slapped some coin into the man’s hand. Vayen did not await his answer as she unburdened Rummy of the two packs she’d strapped to his back, slinging them both over one shoulder as though they weighed nothing at all.
The stablehand only hummed in response before pushing the sleeves of his faded green tunic past his elbows, freeing ink-scarred arms thick with muscle. Without so much as a glance at my bindings, the man snatched up Rummy’s leads and directed him to a larger stall near the back of the stable.
My thrill at no longer being horseback was short-lived as Vayen closed the distance between us, looping a rope over my bindings like a leash.
“How dare you,” I snapped.
“Need to make sure the townsfolk know you’re spoken for—”
When Vayen clipped the end of her sentence by cursing beneath her breath and abruptly turning away, I had the distinct impression she hadn’t meant to say that aloud, which was not a cure for my astonishment.
“Did you really just—”
Vayen yanked my makeshift leash forward, causing my whole body to lurch in her direction as she began heading towards the large building on the far side of the market.
“Stop that,” I threatened, only to have her tug on the leash once more, almost causing me to stumble in the hay-scattered mud.
I gasped through my overwhelming rage, clasping the rope with both hands to steady myself in case she chose to wrench me forward again.
I wanted to scream at her. In the middle of this star-forsaken village, I wanted to holler at the top of my lungs and call her every rotten name in existence.
But I couldn’t see how upsetting her would further my cause, so I bit my tongue to refuse the words that hovered there.
How had I ever felt sympathy for this woman?
I glowered at her back as we trudged through the market, silently damning each chocolate brown curl that sprouted from her despicable, ill-mannered head.
I refused to make eye contact with the passersby who undoubtedly observed my degradation with little more than mild interest, if those first townsfolk were any indication.
I’d survived in a state of persistent humiliation under both my father and brother.
Having fled Lunamor, I’d truly believed that portion of my life was over.
But there I was, being dragged through a marketplace filled with watchful eyes, no better than a common criminal.
Somehow, I had managed to fall even lower than I could have anticipated.
At least in Lunamor, I was a princess. A Treaty Princess, sure, but a princess deserving of respect nonetheless.
Here, I was nothing more than a prisoner.
Vayen’s prisoner.
I pressed my lips into a thin line, all too aware of the uncontrollable way my face pinched in disgust.
I could not let her do this to me.
With great difficulty, I tore my eyes away from my captor, forcing myself to resume the memorization of my surroundings.
In all likelihood, I wouldn’t be able to escape until nightfall, and I doubted this village would bathe itself in torchlight.
Stars willing, the moons would be full and bright enough to guide my way through these unfamiliar streets.
The marketplace—if you could even call it that—stretched out before us lazily, its boundaries only enforced by the leaning, uneven dwellings huddled together at its edge.
Patched awnings and makeshift stalls showcased an assortment of goods, each one tended to by merchants that seemed to grow more and more haggard as we made our way through.
Their cloaks were threadbare and I couldn’t imagine they offered much protection from the encroaching chill.
We were only in autumn’s final cycle; how did these people survive here? Could the Threshold really have caused this much damage in so little time?
My boot caught on an errant stone, and I had to pull tightly on my lead to remain upright.
Vayen’s grip on the rope held steady just when I needed it most. I could feel the muscle of her as she draped it over her free shoulder, no doubt to keep me from crashing into the mud.
Unwarranted gratitude tumbled through my mind, but I was growing used to stamping it out.