Chapter 11 Khiona
Andar handed me three beautiful, fresh-looking peach slices, but he did not ask if I wanted them again.
No.
He started talking about the horses. “You should name your gelding too. They’ll be easier to work with if we have something to call them.”
He pressed his handful of peaches closer to my chest and tipped his chin at them, silently insisting I take them. “Horses are smart animals, and our magic will rub off on them. They’ll respond better to names, even if today’s the first time they hear them.”
I opened my hand to receive the peaches, and he dropped them on my palm. The tiniest edge of his mouth tipped up—not quite a smile, but not one of his antagonistic smirks—and he nodded.
Why did he want me to have them? Could he tell how his transformed peaches drew every piece of my being? I hadn’t had fresh fruit in forty years, and now I craved it more than anything else I could think of.
But why would he want to share?
He kept talking about naming horses, so I slipped one of the peaches in my mouth and…
completely lost track of everything else.
The fresh fruit burst open when I bit it, flooding my mind with memories of summer fruits from decades ago.
I used to hire merchants to travel to Veran and purchase a variety of delicacies like peaches, apricots, and oranges.
We kept them stocked in my icy palace year round, bringing the splash of flavor and the citrus scents to every meal and event.
A soft hum escaped me as I chewed the second slice, silencing Andar’s one-sided discussion of equine names.
The hint of a smile on his face scrawled into a much broader, pleased grin.
“Peaches,” I said in a rush. “I’ll call my horse Peaches.” I popped the last peach slice into my mouth and scrambled to mount the horse. I refused to let Andar know how much I enjoyed his food. “We should get going. I’d like to reach Civa Exima tonight.”
* * *
We didn’t push the horses hard, but we rode fast enough that talking was not convenient.
Our path crossed a large stream shortly before high sun, and Andar insisted we rest the horses.
They drank, but then Andar took the time to transform a patch of grass into oats and started removing their saddles.
I marched up to Sabir and set a hand on the saddle, stopping Andar from lifting it off. “Why are you delaying us?” I asked.
He pointed his gaze at Peaches, who was eagerly enjoying the fresh oats, and my saddle tattoo warmed. Andar smirked. “My job is to take care of the horses. We’ve been on them for hours. They need a break, even if we weren’t running hard.”
I pursed my lips at him.
He sighed. “I recognize this stream. We’re close to a small farming town that is only a three-hour ride from Civa Exima. We have time to treat the horses right and still make the city before nightfall.”
I glared at him. “The horses will not be damaged by a shorter break.”
His expression hardened, pushing his determination to win.
“I told you I grew up on a farm. You cannot expect me to settle for not damaged when I know they can be happy and you can still meet the timeline you wished for this morning.” He raised his wrist toward me.
“You could use this opportunity to procure some food for us. I’m sure fish live in this water. ”
Fish. I winced. “I’d rather find food in this little town you mentioned.”
* * *
It wasn’t really a town. It was a row of six farmhouses with manicured grass, pristine white picket fences around front yards, and sprawling fields and orchards running behind them. Each house had a large front porch with a path that ran out to the street we rode on.
Andar broke the silence. “I don’t think you’ll find a market here, Your Majesty.”
I turned to him. “Did you know this town was nothing more than—” I waved at the street in front of us. “This?”
He shrugged. “There is a little more you cannot see. They share a mill and a canning facility that are set farther back in the fields. We can request food from either facility—technically, you are their queen. I expect they’ll provide anything you ask.”
I sighed and straightened into a more regal posture. “I am their queen. It will be faster to just speak with whoever is in this home.”
Andar’s face was a mask, giving me no hint at what he thought of my plan. “I’ll stay with the horses.”
I swung my leg over the saddle and slid off Peaches—I really needed to rename him. Peaches did not sound like the mount of a queen.
Then again, he wasn’t raised for a queen. I’d taken him to complete my current agenda. Now I needed food for that agenda as well.
I swept up the porch of the little house, covering my clothes in a glamour to make my leather outfit appear as a sweeping royal gown with a glittering white tiara on my head.
Before I reached the door, a small fae—clearly less than ten years old—opened the door. Her mouth fell and her eyes widened. “Are you a princess?”
Another small child, two inches taller, wedged himself into the doorframe next to her and folded his arms. “She can’t be a princess because the prince is making a council. Pabi says—”
The door flew open wider. A tall, muscular adult fae cut the boy off as he bent down and swept both children behind him.
“Pabi says children are not to answer the door by themselves.” He closed the door behind him and knelt on the porch in front of me.
“Your Majesty. Please punish me for the children’s insolence. ”
A twinge of irritation flickered in my chest. I was glad he recognized me, but his words seemed less sincere and more like an attempt to protect his children from me.
I wanted fae who were loyal—not fae who pretended allegiance on a knee while looking for any opportunity they could find to rid themselves of me. Why did nobody understand this?
I lifted my chin. “I am not here to punish children.” Disgust and disappointment dripped off my words as the kneeling fae paled in front of me.
He kept his eyes on my feet. “How can I serve my queen?”
Had my people always been so false with their fealty? Or had they been more true before my absence?
Either way would not affect my meal. “I am here for food for myself and my companion.” I gestured at Andar when the fae father lifted his head to me. “And I would like to know more about the prince who thinks he can rule my kingdom.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” He backed away from me, slipping the door open. He nearly closed it again before he realized his error. “My home is not fit for the queen, but if you would like to wait inside, it is yours.”
I looked down my nose at him. “I will wait on my horse.”
Twenty minutes later we rode our horses slowly down the path, eating pork and lightly fried onions wrapped in flatbread rounds.
The farmer had also provided us with pouches of fried sweet potatoes and sweet potato cookies.
The flavors were better than any feast I could remember, and I was very pleased with myself for finding it.
I glanced over at Andar, who rode effortlessly and focused his attention on his food. “Better than fish?” I asked him.
The edges of his lips turned upward. “Infinitely.”
How long had it been since his last real meal? Centuries, if I was to believe what he’d said before.
I took another bite to hide the pleasure I felt at making him smile. It wasn’t the satisfaction of upholding my end of the bargain—my wrist had warmed when I gave him the food, but the tattoo had been dormant since.
No, this was something new. Something that pressed against the crystals around my heart like the heat of the sun while lightening my chest into a fluttering kaleidoscope of ice butterflies. It was fresh and exciting and distracting and…
Terrifying. I’d never felt such a curious draw to anyone before.
I plucked one of the fried sweet potatoes out of the pouch I’d hung around my saddlehorn and bit into it. I needed to decide what to do about the prince. And my kingdom.
Andar lifted a brow. “Is something wrong with your food?”
“No.” I glared at the last half of the sweet potato wedge in my fingers.
“The farmer said Prince Bylur is organizing the nobles to create a ruling body for Kalshana.” I popped the bite into my mouth and dusted my fingers on my leathers.
Kalshana was mine. “I worked hard for this kingdom. I don’t want some prince to come along and steal it while I’m punishing the humans who trapped me. ”
Andar studied a potato wedge before slipping it into his mouth and dusting his fingers on each other to rid them of salt. The horse’s slow gait was the only response to the personal dilemma I’d just shared.
But what did I expect? He hadn’t promised to help me with anything besides the humans, and he had his own vendetta to pursue afterward.
Perhaps I did not expect anything, but the disappointment washing over me betrayed my hope. I’d hoped that he had seen me as a person worthy of caring for. That perhaps he would stay with me because he wanted to—without any magic coercion or threats or blackmail or binding debts.
But perhaps he’d only helped and protected me because he had his own needs.
Of course. His cursed bond with the lamp.
I knew that. He’d helped me so I would trust him enough to free him. He told me as much. He had no reason to invest energy in my problems now—
A bone-chilling thump reverberated across the sky, followed by two more faster. A pause, and then three more dum–dum-dums prickled my skin.
“Your Majesty, get down!” Andar yelled.
His voice was urgent enough that I jumped off of Peaches before I realized why. As my feet hit the dirt path, my brain caught up to the sounds: Ice dragons.